


Nouvelle Vie (New Life)

by Len0306a



Category: Hannibal (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Blood and Gore, But much later, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Fuck the name Noah, Hannibal Lecter Has Feelings, Hannibal Lecter Is Stiles Stilinski's Uncle, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Morally Ambiguous Peter Hale, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Hannibal Lecter, POV Stiles Stilinski, Quote: This is My Design (Hannibal), Scott McCall is a Bad Alpha, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Serial Killer Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Warning: Gerard Argent, fuck jeff davis, this is gonna be hella gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-04-19 23:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14248131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Len0306a/pseuds/Len0306a
Summary: L̷̦̓o̸͉̐s̵̬͒e̷͔̽ ̵̮́Ý̴̞o̸̠͝u̷̙͊r̸̨̾ ̵̹̽M̵̥̐i̵̗͒n̶̗̾d̶̍ͅ,̶̲̽ ̷̋ͅM̸̠̍ȉ̴̮k̶̭̐o̸̭̔l̴̳̇a̷̬̾s̵̗̒





	1. Numb Your Pain

**Author's Note:**

> My uploads will be regular now that I have finish dealing with personal problems. I might upload some of the chapters earlier that the due date, but on work will have an upload on Saturday. Thank you for sticking with me through this.

Stiles watched the corpse numbly, saw the blood leak out of his head.  _ Mindless _ . Saw the blood leak out of his heart.  _ Heartless _ . Saw the badge carved into his chest.  _ Authority. _

 

It was a warning for the Alpha pack, what would happen if Derek didn’t juin them. 

 

Stiles called Deputy Parrish ( _ Sheriff Parrish _ ) to collect John Stilinski’s body. 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

As the police scurried around his home, Stiles watched with disgust. They could protect the innocent, but not themselves. Stiles shrugged off the hollow  _ he’s in a better place _ to wonder where the pack was. They would’ve been told by Parrish immediately, which means they chose not to come. How wounding. 

 

“Stiles? Is there someone we can call to pick you up?” Parrish asked, a broken smile on his insincere face. 

 

“Yes. My Uncle, Hannibal Lecter.” 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

“I’m sorry Will, but it seems someone is calling me.” Hannibal said, irritated at the disruption. Will looked at him like he was an idiot, “I can hear it.” 

 

How rude.

 

Hannibal answered his office phone, “Hello?”

 

“Hello, is this Hannibal Lecter?” A man asked, gruff and with an odd accent. 

 

“This is he.” Hannibal said, growing impatient already. 

 

“Your brother-in-law, former Sheriff John Stilinski, has been murdered. His son, Mikolas Stilinski, says you are his next of kin.” This man said, his voice grinding on Hannibal’s nerves. 

 

“Of course. May I speak with him?” Hannibal said, trying to remain polite. He heard an informative grunt, and the sound the phones being switched out. 

 

“Hey, Hannibal.” Mikolas’ voice was dull and lifeless, making Hannibal more worried than he ought to be.

 

“Are you alright?” Hannibal asked, trying to sound consouling, not demanding. 

 

“It was just a message.  _ If you do not do as we say, you are next _ and all of that.”

 

“From what I know of you, you do not leave things alone.” Hannibal said, a small smirk on his face. He knows Mikolas, and knows that the teenager would rather cut out his own tongue than stay out of trouble. 

 

“I left it alone, and my father was killed.” Mikolas said lightly, like talking about a new comic. 

 

“Mischief-” Hannibal sighed out, already growing tired out of games Mikolas was playing. 

 

“Anyways, legally, you’ll be given full custody of me. Cancel your schedule cause this is gonna be hell.” Mikolas hung up the phone, clearly used to getting the last word. Hannibal gently put the phone down, trying not to smash his new mahogany desk. After all, Hannibal  ate the woodworker. 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

After Mikolas’ conversation with Hannibal, he wearily got up to go handle this….Unfortunate situation. Mikolas had to find the alpha pack, talk to Scott, and kill the Darach. All in around two days, before Hannibal came to Beacon Hills. 

 

Mikolas had his work cut out for him.

 

Mikolas walked out of the police station, ignoring the officers’ question and choosing to walk to Scott’s. He could easily call for a ride, or use some fucked up black magic to get there, but he’d rather use his energy for killing than for desperation. 

 

He ran there, a sort fifteen minute run that just made Mikolas even more enraged, even more emotional. Managing to get there had been easily, but getting Scott to  _ answer the damn  door _ had been incredibly difficult. The reason being Scott had his  _ legs between Allison’s thigh instead of finding who killed Mikolas’ father.  _

 

Mikolas took a steady breath, staring at Scott’s mused hair and flushed face. 

 

“So you decide to  _ save your parents and let mine die _ ?” Mikolas’ voice was lethal, wolfsbane and knives digging into Scott’s skin. 

 

“We didn’t have enough time! The Darach-” Mikolas cut him off. “ _ You could’ve called! You could’ve saved him! But you were so busy with your head between her thighs that you didn’t have the courtesy to save my father! _ ” Mikolas looked at them with disgust, Allison smiling like the damn cheshire cat. 

 

“You’re just like Kate.” Mikolas snarled at Allison, watching her face fall, become transparent with hurt. 

 

“You contact me again, I’ll kill you.” Mikolas was numb again, feeling nothing for the kid he used to call his brother. He turned around to leave, but Scott grabbed his wrist. He felt his bones grind against cartilage, and he  _ snapped _ . He punched Scott, heard a sickening  _ crunch  _ as Scott’s jaw and nose broke, blood spraying in an arc of scarlet. 

 

“ _ Don’t touch me! _ ” Mikolas yelled at the crumpled body on the floor, looking Allison in her soul. “Your mutt touches me again, I’ll kill you both.”

 

Mikolas left, walking to Allison’s house. Argent has a literal arson of weapons, and if he doesn’t feel obliged, he’d bring up his father. 

 

He managed to get there easily, the house almost too close to the McCall’s, and walked through the front yard. He knocked on the door, a deep brown, and waited. Argent answered almost immediately, looking dishuffled and worried for his daughter. 

 

“Hello, Chris.” Mikolas said, a serene smile on his face. Argent grunted in greeting, raising an eyebrow at Mikolas’ appearance. 

 

“I need some weapons.” He said, looking miffed at not being addressed. 

 

“Sorry, kid, I’m not gonna-” Argent started, pissing of Mikolas more that he’d like to admit. 

 

“No. You’re going to give me some damn weapons to take down the alpha pack, because you were allowed to live, and he wasn’t.” Mikolas sneered openly at the Argent, letting the monster peek out from beneath his mask. The older man nodded, stepping aside to allow Mikolas entrance. “Basement?” Mikolas asked, getting an informative grunt. 

 

“Lead the way.” Mikolas said, watching the Argent place his hand on his gun and nod.

 

They walked down silently, Argent’s attempts at started a conversation ending with brutal anger. 

 

They managed to make it to the basement without any blood drawn, and Mikolas watched Argent unload guns, arrows, and other weapons. 

 

Mikolas grabbed a whip, a crossbow, a gun, and any ammunition needed. The Les Baer Thunder Ranch was easy to carry, the Gladiator’s Barbed Whip lethal, the Barnett Ghost 410 heavy but useful. Each packed a punch with wolfsbane and foxglove, which got them major points. Mikolas strapped them to his body asking, “How much?”

 

Argent regarded him then said, “On the house. Kill the bastards who killed John.” Mikolas nodded, “I’ll wrap them for you.” 

 

Argent smiled, something sinister and exciting, “Good. We were meant to go on a date tomorrow.” Mikolas knew that, saw the dress shirts in the laundry, the new watches and cufflinks. Mikolas smiled back, wondering how he was going to take on five alphas on his own. 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

“I understand, Jack, but I have a family matter to attend to.” Hannibal said, growing frustrated with the brute in front of him. The man refused to let him leave, claiming it for the ‘ _ betterment of Will’s condition _ ’. The man was just selfish, abusing his power and blaming the Chesapeake Ripper on anyone in close proximity. 

 

“No! You don’t understand! We need to catch this killer, and Will’s our only-” 

 

“Jack.” Hannibal said darkly. “I have to go attend to family matters, and if you’d like, Will can come with me.” Hannibal marveled at the discoloration on Jack’s face, watching him become more worked up by the second. By the rate Jack was going, he was going to have a heart attack if he didn’t 

remain calm.

 

“I want to go. I can take the files with me.” Will said, eyes skittering around the room. By the way his eyes wouldn’t lock onto Jack’s face, he was fearful. 

 

“Please calm yourself, Jack.” Hannibal said, watching as Jack slowly calmed down.

 

“Fine.” Jack relented. “But you will report to me everyday, understand?” Jack talked to Will like he was his pet, and Hannibal found the urge to maim; By the looks of it, Will felt the need to harm, also. 

 

“Of course.” Hannibal answered for Will, “I will begin to pack, so you can continue to discuss the case.” Leaving Will with Uncle Jack might give him the courage to stand up for himself, and distance himself from his dear Uncle Jack. How perfect.

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

The worst part, in Mikolas’ opinion, is waiting. Planning his attack was going well, but waiting until morning was going to make his go crazy. 

 

He was stuck at Derek’s loft while the ‘wolf brooded, and Peter sneered. Corpse breath was pissing him off with all of his sarcastic remarks, and Mikolas was starting to feel the blood lust that so many ‘wolves felt. 

 

“I’ve got to say Stiles, you were brooding much better than my dear nephew.” Derek growled, and Mikolas stood up. He grabbed a book he was using to write with, and flung it at Peter. The ‘wolf was too shocked to do anything other than let it smash into his face. Mikolas heard the  _ thump _ of the book hitting it’s mark, and watched Peter fall down the stairs like a slinky. 

 

“Nice throw.” Peter said, heaving at the bottom of the steps. “I try, Corpse Breath.” Mikolas responded, watching Peter get up with amusement. 

 

“Not even going to help a poor lady up? Shame on you.” Peter tsked at Mikolas as he stood up, smiling evilly. He looked like a disney villain with that goatee. 

 

“Do any of you guys know why the Darach is after the alpha pack?” Mikolas asked the two ‘wolves, changing the subject. 

 

“She was part of Kali’s old pack, and since Kali loved her very much, she left her to bleed out instead of killing her.” Peter said, distaste coloring his voice at the very thought of a messy job. 

 

“Lovely, so it’s a lovers spat that I’m in the middle of.” Mikolas let his irritation show, a clear sign of  _ don’t touch me _ . The ‘wolves abided, staying where they were. Peter made the mistake of going back to his perch on the stairs, to which Mikolas hit him with another book. 

 

Watching Peter fall down the stairs was more therapeutic than anything Mikolas had ever done. Getting a call from Hannibal ruined his glee somewhat, but Mikolas still basked in the afterglow.

 

“Y’llo.” Mikolas said, sound very bored now that Peter was back on his feet.

 

“Mikolas, the plane will leave at 6AM, so we will be arriving at around 12PM.” Mikolas hummed noncommittally into the phone, watching Peter gently pick up one of the books Mikolas had thrown. 

 

“You need a ride?” Mikolas asked, silently watching Peter pull his arm back to the the book.

 

“That would suffice.” Hannibal said, voice unusually neutral like always. “Is something wrong? You seem distracted.” 

 

“One second.” Mikolas watched the book go sailing through the air, moving out of the way so it landed with a heavy  _ thump  _ onto the hardwood floors. 

 

“Yeah, I’m good. Anyways, I’ll be there at 12AM.” Mikolas said, hearing Peter let out a huff of displeasure. 

 

“I will see you soon.” Hannibal said, ending the call. Mikolas put the phone in his pocket, picking up the book and settling back on the couch. He grabbed his profiles of the Alpha pack and the Darach, and started writing. 

 

Mikolas could feel Derek stare at him with confusion, and Peter’s stare of approval and anger. Mikolas turned around to face the ‘wolves, “Yes?” 

 

“How did you manage to avoid be hit?” Derek asked, believing that Mikolas wouldn’t be able to avoid Peter’s attack.

 

“It was obvious, since Peter wasn’t talking.” Derek cracked a smile at Mikolas’ callous joke, while Peter huffed indignantly. 

 

“I wasn’t obvious.” Peter said, put upon. 

 

“You were.”

 

“Were not.”

 

“Peter, Stiles!” Derek scolded them like children, Mikolas having enough same to look guilty. Peter looked quite smug. 


	2. Planning Takes Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISED ID UPADTE FREQUENTLY, SO HERE IT IS
> 
> But seriously, Steter is gonna happen, and Hannigram is a definite. Also, there's gonna be way more updates for this story, and for different one-shots. My tumblr's open for prompt's though, so feel free to ask.

Hannibal found himself quite fortunate to be able to get first class on such short notice, while Will found it quite extreme. Of course, them leaving had a few setbacks to Hannibal’s plans, including framing Will as the copycat killer. 

 

Hannibal would need a new plan if he were to be forced to take custody over Mikolas, who was too smart for his own good. The boy would easily find out about his hobby if Mikolas became too curious. This could have been avoided if he stayed in contact with John, yet the the police officer never particularly liked him. Maybe due to the fact Hannibal advised against his bastard sister’s marriage. 

 

Chesna Lecter, who’s name was changed to Claudia, married a random, loyal man who miffed Hannibal to no end. She had married a police officer, knowing what Hannibal did without a care. Of course, it was fun confusing the man with cannibalistic jokes, but grew tiring when the man couldn’t catch on. 

 

Hannibal was broke out of his thoughts by someone knocking on his door, Will standing there with an almost empty suitcase. Said suitcase was worn down and dirty, making Hannibal instantly wish for it not to come into his home. 

 

“When are we leaving?” Will asked, as Hannibal allowed his entrance. 

 

“6AM, tomorrow morning.” Hannibal said, watching Will flinch as if he’d been struck.

 

“Alright. I-I’ll just go then.” Will made a motion to leave, but Hannibal stopped him. “You are already here, and it’d be much easier to drive there together.”

 

Hannibal’s words made Will freeze, “Are you sure? I mean I’m probably going to wake you up when I sleep walk-” Hannibal thought it was cute, the way Will tried to give him an out. Hannibal smiled, “It would be a pleasure to have you here.”

 

Will was fidgeting, uncomfortable in sleeping in someone else’s house. If Hannibal could convince him that sleeping in a new environment could help him with his night terrors, he could make Will rely on him. Maybe he didn’t need to put Will in BSHCI after all. 

 

“I’m a really horrible guest. I really don’t think you want me to sleep here.” Will’s smile was terrible, but Hannibal delighted in Will’s concern for him, how considerate he was of Hannibal’s well being. If he could get Will comfortable enough with him tonight, he could convince Will to sleep next to him. What a wonderful idea. 

 

“Would you like some wine? I have a remarkable  _ Chateau Lafite Rothschild _ from 2009.” Hannibal smiled with his usual sphinx-like smile, like a cat that got the cream. 

 

“Trying to get me drunk, Doctor Lecter?” Will joked, smiling brightly. A smile he never showed but was full of a fondness that made Hannibal’s grin grow wider. 

 

“Only if it’s working.” Hannibal purred back, watching Will’s eyes brighten with the quip. If Hannibal could sneak some of the antibiotics for Will’s encephalitis into his food or drink, Will could believe that being with Hannibal was healing. Will completely and utterly trusting Hannibal was something that Hannibal was lavish in, drink it down like  _ fay Cabernet Sauvignon _ and savor it like  _ Bouillabaisse _ , choke on it like the patient’s tongue. 

 

“Well, I hope it’s not too expensive. I’d hate to waste a good wine.” Will quipped back, a smirk on his face but his expression still light and carefree. “Do not worry, it isn’t my most expensive bottle.” Hannibal said, grabbing Will’s coat to hang it inside of the closet. Hannibal walked, hearing Will patter behind him; Hannibal wasn’t lying about the wine, the object lying innocently in the center of the kitchen. Hannibal shrugged out of his jacket, ignoring Will’s quirked eyebrow, “Would you like something to eat?” 

 

“Uh, if you already have something, sure.” Will said, instead of forcing Hannibal to make him food, which meant Will was hungry. “It is no problem, Will. I would love to cook for you.” Hannibal said, his usual mask of a smile on his face. Will could never see past his mask, which Hannibal believed he loved. Loved that he didn’t have to  _ see _ , that he could just look without over knowing. 

 

Hannibal grabbed his materials,  _ Foie Gras _ made of human liver instead of duck or goose, salt and freshly ground black pepper, Hannibal grabbing  cinnamon to ecensate the savoury flavor. Adding butter to the pan and leaving it off, Hannibal started making the sauce. He made it out of apples, applesauce, butter, and sugar; the sweetness mixing well with the almost smoke-like taste of the liver. 

 

He sauteed the livers with some of the sauce, lightly placing both livers on the stove. The house remained silent, Will watching Hannibal cook but out of the way, something Hannibal appreciated. “Will? Could you pour the wine?” Will nodded to Hannibal’s question, grabbing the expensive wine and grabbing the crystal glasses. Watching Will out of the corner of his eye, Hannibal placed the livers artfully on their own plate, taking the sauce and lightly pouring it over each piece of the rude meat. 

 

Once the food was completed, Hannibal and Will ate and drank in silence. That was until Will started talking, “Where am I sleeping?” He fidgeted again, and Hannibal wanted to whisk him away from Uncle Jack’s cruel hands and keep him inside Hannibal’s house. The thought was absurd, shocking Hannibal into a twitch of his lip before replying, “Well, if the guest room isn’t too messy, you can sleep there.” Will nodded, smiled, and they continued to eat.

 

They managed to eat and clean up after themselves, Will drinking the whole bottle except for Hannibal’s meager portion. Will had a faint blush, a small sign of the alcohol taking effect. Tonight was going to be...interesting. 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

The plan was slightly altered, Hannibal’s quick arrival making it messy. Mikolas didn’t like  _ messy _ . He was a neat monster, methodical and assured, but Mikolas could work with this minimal inconvenience. Of course, getting Boyd and Erica back was top priority, but making Deucalion suffer was also high on the list. Kali would have to be first, then Ennis, and Ethan and Aiden if Mikolas was forced to. Mikolas needed help, and he knew just the right person.

 

“Hey. Would you like to help me murder the alpha pack?” Mikolas asked Peter in a neutral voice. The ‘wolf was shocked at being addressed, and Derek leaving to find Erica and Boyd gave Mikolas the opportunity to enlist help. “Why would you want that?” Peter asked, intrigue coloring his voice. Mikolas snorted at Peter’s tone.

 

“You’ve been after the alpha power for awhile, and you would fuck off to go build your own pack once you’ve got it.” Mikolas said lightly, staring intently at what he had dubbed as his ‘ _ board of murder _ ’. The Darach was already dying, the nematon draining her power without her even noticing. She’ll die pitifully at her own hand, her own  _ ace _ , and that was punishment enough. Maybe Mikolas could make Deucalion deaf, take away his most prized weapon. Or drain him of his blood and make him into a warning. A revenge spiral seemed ironic and perfect. 

 

“And what good does that do you, Stiles?” Peter purred out his nickname like a deranged lion, his ‘wolf excited at the idea of power. Mikolas smiled, “Revenge. You’ve got it for your family, I want it for mine.” 

 

Peter’s smile was purely sinister, and full of so much  _ emotion _ . Seeing what he used to be before finding his dad’s mutilated body on his front porch. Mikolas liked the lack of emotion; the lack of sympathy, pity, and worry that usually plagued him. Being able to see what people felt had its advantages, including the fact that Peter’s emotions were easy to copy. 

 

“That sounds  _ divine _ .” Of course Corpse Breath made it sound seductive, like murder gave him a boner. Remembering Peter bathed in blood helped Mikolas that yes, Peter probably had an incredible fetish with blood and gore. That made his plan much easier, less participates that would be sick at the sight of Mikolas arranging his stage. Hannibal would be proud of what he was about to create. 

 

“Want me to lace your claws with wolfsbane?” Mikolas asked Peter, remembering how much of an avantage it would be to have a partner that couldn’t feel pain correctly. After all, Peter’s scars may have healed, but his cells didn’t. Less susceptible to pain or any kind of psychical touch. Peter nodded, and so that was that. They’d have to get into the bank, seperate the alpha pack, and slaughter them. Noise should draw them apart, their powers making them arrogant. Ennis against Peter, Mikolas against Kali. Ethan and Aiden would be stuck watching Erica and Boyd, while Deucalion would wait for them to come to him. They’d need a way to communicate, but talking in any form would be too much of a risk. 

 

Mikolas sighed, but pulled Peter over to review his plan. “Check for mistakes.” Mikolas told Peter, the man obliging for the power he would receive in return. If Derek came in and Mikolas told the ‘wolf where they were keeping Erica and Boyd, the man would run off to save them. Derek would die, but he’d take Kali down with him. If he removed Derek, Peter would lose his last remaining family and sanity; losing Peter in his plan was too great of a loss that Mikolas could accept. 

 

Mikolas watched Peter smile at his plan, his smile that reminded Mikolas of Satan in a v-neck. A very accurate description of Peter, mind you. Peter’s v-necks were a very sacred thing, most of them black or crimson. The shirts just brought out the Peter’s Disney Villain vibe that he had, and made him seem all the more sarcastic. Not to misconceive the notion that Peter was brutal and ruthless, pitiful with the cruelty he pushed onto himself and other. Mikolas thinks he just needs a little bit of therapy and maybe a noose next friday. Mikolas digresses, the point of his thoughts trailing off into something more...Abstract. 

 

“Is this all?” Peter asked, small smirk in place. “Yes, so far.” Mikolas responded back breathlessly, knowing he couldn’t tell Peter he was going to tear their body into pieces and shape them into the revenge spiral; no, Peter would be more willing to help him brutalize the bodies when the adrenaline hit him. Peter quirked an eyebrow, waiting for an answer that never came. “We’ll drop Boyd and Erica off near the loft, far enough away that Derek can  _ just _ hear their heartbeats. That’s another thing I need you to test out.” 

 

It was easy to manipulate Peter into doing anything morally wrong or unjust, the ‘wolf’s head unhinged just enough to be willing to do anything depending on his mood. Mikolas looking like Peter’s past wife was just the cherry on top, or so the saying goes. Mikolas disliked that metaphor,  _ the tissue on the bones  _ sounded much more demented; the wording fitting nicely with the demented act he was going to partake in. 

 

“Stiles, what else is in your plan?” Peter asked, trying to sound like something powerful but coming off wary. Peter feared him after the Nogitsune, after the demon left darkness in his heart. Peter was wary that the fox left  _ more _ , which it did, but Mikolas wasn’t going to let anyone but himself (and a dead man) know that. “It’s a surprise. I think you’ll like it.” Mikolas finally responded, imagining Peter drenched in crimson, the blood bringing out his new found power. Mikolas always thought Peter would’ve been a better alpha (if he was sane), yet Mikolas still threw that wretched Molotov Cocktail. None of the enemies they’ve faced would’ve gotten away unscathed, all bruised and with a story not to  _ fuck with Beacon Hills _ . Sadly, Scott believed everyone deserved a million chances, even when they’ve killed their fair share of innocence people. People like Deucalion, who kill for power and fear, they deserved to die. If they can get away with manslaughter, but a victim gets put in jail for a crime they didn’t commit, who was there to stop them? Mikolas wasn’t that person, but he was willing to get rid of a few predators to even the playing field. 

 

“As long as it doesn’t end my my death; bring myself back to live was too much of a hassle to do again.” Peter sighed out, body language conveying his statement. “Well, even if you do die, Lydia will revive you. You’re useful.” Mikolas stated, watching Peter’s face scrunch up in distaste, a clear anger at ever dying again. Mikolas wouldn’t want to die personally, but if he does it doesn’t really matter to him. He was alive because he had to take care of his dad, and now the only reason he’s still breathing is to get revenge. That, and Hannibal would arrive fairly early (too early). Well, Mikolas could still interest himself in Hannibal’s endeavours. Everywhere Hannibal lived, there was a serial killer.  _ The Chesapeake Ripper, Il Mostro Di Firenze, The Copycat Killer _ . All aliases Hannibal had been given by the FBI of different countries he has been to. No one noticed except for Mikolas, who found it quite funny that the Feds never caught on. Maybe it was just him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your love will grant Stiles immortality, and me motivation. 
> 
> Lena/Lee.


	3. You Look Good In Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep my promises ;))) 
> 
> Also Steter is a thing-
> 
> *monotone excited screaming*

A tipsy Will Graham was a sight to behold, all nervousness gone for wild, failing limbs and rambunctious laughter. The profiler was constantly giggling, randomly pointing at things in Hannibal’s house that he considered phallus shaped. Hannibal was fondly irritated at the chatter, but it gave Hannibal the chance to slip in the antibiotics to a glass of tea Hannibal brewed for Will. Said man was sitting in his living room couch, almost laying down, body slumped with intoxication. 

 

Hannibal walked into the living room, “It seems that my guest room is quite dusty; would you mind sleeping in my room?” Hannibal’s inquiry made Will laugh for unknown reasons, the delicate man’s body shaking with barely concealed chuckles. “Whatever floats your boat. Or mansion.” Will laughed at his oddly worded joke, causing Hannibal to sigh with fondness. 

 

“I would offer you a shower, but I do not think you’re capable of standing on your own.” Hannibal’s offer was filled with a lightheartedness he never imagined he possessed; “I can walk just fine.” Will said, put upon by Hannibal’s light teasing. Will tried to stand to prove a point, barely managing to stand on his own, tipping forward dangerously close to the hardwood floors. Hannibal rushed over, Will’s face smashing into Hannibal’s silk button up. The drunk man laughed, “Care to give me a hand?” 

 

Hannibal helped Will stand up straight, almost carrying the man up to the master bedroom.The trek was long because of Will’s constant need to touch anything that piqued his interests, which was almost anything in reach. After managing to get Will down to his boxers and shirt, which was much harder than Hannibal thought it would be, Hannibal set off to grabbing a pair of loose fitting pants. Managing to get dressed without Will falling off the bed was an accomplishment, although Will’s constant moving was making Hannibal want to restrain Will’s body to the bed. The thought of Will completely and utterly under his control made Hannibal’s gut twist with satisfaction, but the mistrust after doing so lead to a feeling of bile in the back of his throats. Oh well, he’d have to deal with Will’s fidgeting no matter what was happening. 

 

Getting into his own bed was easy, but trying to sit up was next to impossible, Will’s body laid heavily over Hannibal’s own, Will’s curls tickling his chin. Hannibal relaxed, wrapping his arms around Will’s body. The easy acceptance of Will’s affections made Will bold, the empath reaching up to play with Hannibal’s hair. Hannibal condoned it, closing his eyes, “Sleep,Will. We have a busy schedule tomorrow.” Will nodded to Hannibal’s words, patting Hannibal’s head like a cat before relaxing to sleep. 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

Mikolas plan was going spectacular, although Peter’s constant bitching on the way there was starting to piss him off. “This car smells like hormones.” Peter complained, hands flying around the car as if it helped Mikolas understand what the fuck Peter was on. Mikolas rolled his eyes and rolled the window down. “Happy?” Mikolas asked Peter rudely, making Peter sniff into the air like that wouldn’t piss Mikolas off. Mikolas grabbed the back of Peter’s head, hair grabbed firmly, and slammed the ‘wolf’s face into the dashboard. “You don’t have to get the alpha power. I could throw you out of my car.” Mikolas said grinding his teeth, watching Peter realine the cracked bone in his nose. 

 

“Fine.” Peter huffed out, turning on the radio to continuously flick through station after station -  _ Jesus, Mary, and Joseph  _ \- Mikolas was going to kill the annoying ‘wolf before they even got to the bank. Mikolas was one second away from slamming Peter’s face into the dash, again, before Peter finally settled on Matt Maltese. Mikolas was really considering ending their deal for the sake of pissing Peter  _ off. _ Mikolas refrained (barely), calming himself down by ignoring the man next to him. 

 

“Why does it smell like dirt in here?” Peter asked, breaking Mikolas out of his small bubble of calm. “Stop questioning my decisions.” Mikolas snapped at Peter, turning off the radio out of spite. “And the radio will give us away.” Mikolas only said that to insult Peter’s abilities, and it hit the mark.  _ Bullseye _ . Peter’s eyes darkened with rage and wounded pride, making Mikolas smile back brightly at the ‘wolf. Of course, the man knew when to pick him fights, and chose to tap out erratic beats on the dash. Mikolas was going to  _ slaughter _ Peter after they killed the alpha pack. 

 

The trip was silent after that, the only interruption was Peter tapping on Mikolas’ shoulder to warn him that the alpha pack could hear their car. Mikolas kept driving, Peter growing more ansty to hunt, Mikolas smiled. 

 

Mikolas saw the abandoned bank to his right, “You ready Peter?” Mikolas asked the ‘wolf, getting a grin of complete calamity as an answer. 

 

They pulled up to the building, Mikolas grabbing his weapons and mountain ash before heading the the building; Peter sauntered up to the building, flicking out his claws to dip in Mikolas’ soup like wolfsbane. Peter hissed at the pain, but still dipped his other hand in after. Mikolas smiled. 

 

Getting inside the bank was easy (arrogant alphas) and attracting attention even simpler. Walking in with Peter got them the attention of all five alphas, which Peter easily diverted by jumping on Ennis.  _ Not the fucking plan  _ but Mikolas could work with this. He grabbed a handful of mountain ash, throwing it in the air to make neat circles’ around the alphas: Peter and Ennis, Deucalion, Kali, and Ethan and Aiden. 

 

Mikolas stared blankly as Peter ripped out Ennis’ throat, easy because of Peter’s agility. This may be faster than Mikolas hoped for. 

 

“Where’s Erica and Boyd?” Mikolas address Deucalion, talking over Kali’s roar of outrage at her mates death. Deucalion smiled something arrogant, “Why would I tell you?” Mikolas rolled his eyes at Deucalion’s theatrics, “Peter, can you find Erica and Boyd?” 

 

The ‘wolf nodded, Mikolas breaking the circle so Peter could sashay towards his old pack. 

 

“Oh well. Let’s get started.” Kali snarled at Mikolas’ statement, which filled Mikolas with disgust. It’s very rude to be interrupted, after all. Mikolas pulled out his whip, snapping it towards Kali, wrapping around her head. Pulling the weapon quickly towards him caused Kali’s paralyzation, her neck making a wet  _ snap  _ as it broke, and head rolling around her own neck, completely limp and unable to heal without being held together. Mikolas’ eyes flicked towards Deucalion, watching the man’s confidence be replaced with terror. “Well, I really did want to have a long, drawn out monologue, but now I just want you to suffer.” Mikolas shrugged unapologetically, pulling out his gun. Easily shooting Deucalion in the hands, he watched The Demon Wolf fall, staring at Mikolas like he was a monster (Technically, he was). Mikolas considered Deucalion to be a monster, his arrogance and ignorance making him something twisted.  _ Twisted but not broken _ , at least not yet. Pulling out a simple, dull hunting knife (more painful), Mikolas approached the wounded ‘wolf. “I’m going to have so much fun.”

 

Hearing Peter and  _ more _ than Erica and Boyd stopped Mikolas in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see someone new come with the trio. “Is that Cora?” Mikolas asked Peter, nodding his head to the brunette glued to Peter’s side. Peter’s response was a tense nod, a hesitance to believe that he was allowed anything good. “Get her washed up, she looks like seven shades of hell.” Seven shades of hell was an odd term for how Cora looked, dirty and wild with torn clothing and pale skin.  _ Traumatized _ was the correct term, fearful, helpless, hopeless, distraught, would all be good terms. The idea of hell not looking bloody and malicious was almost enough to make Mikolas smile,  _ almost. _ “Stiles?” Erica called out, weak but  _ alive _ . “ _ Thank you _ .” She looked so relieved, like Mikolas was a massiah instead of a devil. Prince of hell, more like, someone who does something for the devil. Part-time devil. Mikolas put his thoughts back on track, Deucalion’s groan of pain snapping him back to reality. Mikolas nodded in response, tapping his foot impatiently against the tiles. “Can all of you guys run, or do you need to use the car?” The way Boyd was hanging against Peter’s side spoke volumes of their inability to do other than la down.  Mikolas didn’t want to leave Deucalion here in case the Darach, or  _ Jennifer _ , comes to Mikolas kill. He still has Kali as bait against Jennifer, and if he took the ‘wolf to the nemeton Jennifer would follow. Maybe she would try to kill Kali, but murdering them by his own hands would be preferable. Oh well, Mikolas was flexible. 

 

“We need the car. We’ll wait until you’re finished.” Peter replied, all tense lines and rigid posture, trying not to break in front of his enemies. The act was courageous and Mikolas nodded to Peter, watching the quartet walk towards his car.  _ His car he’d have to leave if Hannibal gained custody _ . Mikolas ignored that thought, tightening his grip on the knife before looking back at Deucalion. He had a disgusting tint of near death climbing up his arms, but he would last for a few more hours. Enough time to make Deucalion’s death last, and Mikolas wanted it to last. Hearing them leave gave Mikolas less room for torture, yet Mikolas couldn’t be too bothered to care. Instead he just calmly walked towards the Demon Wolf, a title that the man didn’t deserve. A demon isn’t as ignorant, they know the world as it is and plagues it for it’s crimes, not for it’s innocence. So yes, a title Deucalion didn’t deserve. Maybe Mikolas would take that title from him; the thought was appealing, but would scare any ‘wolf into submission. Baltimore is a new start of sorts, and Mikolas planned to use that to his advantage. Well, Mikolas could out Hannibal for his crimes, be the hero that took down the Chesapeake Ripper. That would bring too much attention to himself, and his father’s work in the law wouldn’t help to back up his claim. Maybe if he brought evidence, but Hannibal would never leave fingerprints on any of his... _ pigs _ . He was precise, which meant Mikolas would have to plant the evidence there himself, which was too much work to even attempt. Anyways, Will Graham was close to figuring out Hannibal’s bloody little secret, which meant Mikolas could just watch their deadly game play out. While Mikolas was lost in thought, he was slowly off the muscle of Deucalion’s arm, taking deep satisfaction the Deucalion’s suffering was too much to even  _ fight against _ . Mikolas did have a shit load of morphine in his pocket, but he wanted Deucalion to feel everything Mikolas was doing to him. So, he just had to be very careful of sharp teeth and lethal claws. Well, not so lethal as Deucalion’s teeth, considering that his hands were...preoccupied. Mikolas wanted to rip out Deucalion’s fangs and feed them to Kali, but resisted the sudden impulse for a more satisfactory end. Although Mikolas’ old pack was outside, Mikolas couldn’t resist making Deucalion  _ scream _ . Maybe they’d enjoy it as much as Mikolas, but probably not. They were as kind as they could be, no matter what the mask they wore; inside they still cared for everyone, and were terrified of death or killing. Mikolas could rectify that, but he didn’t have enough  _ time _ . Deucalion shouted something shrill and incomprehensible; the sound grated on Mikolas’ ears, making him snap his face and make eye contact with Deucalion. The Demon Wolf was snarling at him, the front of his put up messily and all together unneeded. Mikolas wanted to cut out Deucalion’s tongue, but he’d probably be bitten for his efforts. 

 

“Yes?” Mikolas snapped at Deucalion, ripping of Deucalion’s sixth piece of muscle, yet he was still alive and conscious. It was almost hilarious; Deucalion’s pathetic attempts at staying alive were rewarded with a piece of muscle being  _ torn _ instead of cut from his bones. The blood made a giant puddle around them, which was annoyingly getting onto Mikolas’ jean; Mikolas did have another pair in the car, put the fact still remained that his dad bought him these jeans. Even when being slaughtered Deucalion stilled continued to test Mikolas’ patience. This was a bag of bullshit, a bushel of bullshit, if you will. Mikolas continued to cut off Deucalion’s muscles, long strips of bloody tissue dripping onto the floor, making a disgusting  _ plop _ as it fell into a pile with it’s brethren. It was a disgusting, satisfying sound that filled Mikolas with more rage, looking at the living corpse in front of him. Lunging expanding towards the ribs, heart pouring out Deucalion’s blood, intestines quaking with pain. The worst part was the fat of Deucalion’s body giggling with each intense, gasping breaths. It was almost disgusting enough to stop, but Mikolas rage kept him going, kept him tearing and cutting. Most slabs of flesh were cut with precision (thanks Melissa), other brutally ripped from Deucalion’s bone; Mikolas’ control slipped a few times, yet he continued on for the reason that he  _ had _ to humiliate Deucalion the way he humiliated Mikolas. Mikolas watch Deucalion take a shuddering breath before his lungs completely stopped, which lead to Mikolas pulling out Deucalion’s ribcage with brutal force. The bones cracked around the sides, splintering off into small, sharp shards. Working out in case of another monster had its perks. (Like being able to rip apart a body, for example.) 

 

Mikolas cut out Deucalion’s organs,  _ everything _ (including fat and bones). Slowly arranging them into the revenge cycle took time he didn’t have, but Jennifer could wait for Mikolas to finish. Although letting his old pack see him covered in blood wasn’t optimal it was what he had to do. He checked his watch:  _ 2:46AM _ ; He barely had time to kill Jennifer, yet he took his time going to his car and receiving bouquets of Bird’s-foot trefoil. Their shocked gasps irritated Mikolas to no end, yet he ignored them in favor of walking back to the bank. Carefully, ever so carefully, he placed the flowers inside the spiral, flesh outlining the bright yellow flowers. It was almost art, almost to Hannibal’s level of expertise, but none of the organs were eaten. When he goes to Baltimore he’d probably have to eat some poor elitist, so it doesn’t really matter. Mikolas sighed wistfully, knowing that when he left he’d have to deal with a whole new level of psychotic. 

 

Mikolas calming left, leaving behind a small message:  _ taeter _ . Offensive, repugnant,  _ sickening _ to list off a few of what that word could mean. Mikolas was growing tired, but carried on towards his old pack. “I have something else to do, so all of you go to the loft. Peter, come pick me up at the end of the preserve; Go near the gas station, and I’ll be there at around five.” The pack nodded along to his words, Cora the only one looking shocked at seeing how calm Mikolas was. He didn’t believe he owned an explanation to her, so he grabbed his clothes and handed Peter the keys. “I hope you don’t get caught.” Erica said instead of addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room, grimacing as Mikolas peeled off his jeans. “I won’t. My dad was the Sheriff, remember?” Mikolas winked at Erica, causing her to smile. More like grimace at how she was holding her side. Mikolas frowned in concern, but also chose not to address Erica’s pain. “Go.” Mikolas said  instead of trying to reassure her that everything would be fine, because it never was. And will never be again, with his father gone (how melodramatic). Instead of focusing on his father’s death, Mikolas walked back into the bank and grappled with Kali’s limp body. She could hear and see everything, just not  _ feel _ or  _ do  _ anything about about it. Her price instead of being stripped into pieces. 

 

Mikolas pulled her into a fireman’s carry, her body light with her agility instead of muscle (easier to carry to the nemeton). It was easy walking to the stump, the dead piece of nature taking a liking to him because of his possession. He never used her like the others, and if he did it was for both their benefits. Mikolas sighed heavily, checking his watch to see it was now 3:30AM. He’d have to make this quick and ruthless, even if he wanted to draw it out. Walking up to the stump, draping Kali across it like an offering. Mikolas slowing arranged her head back together, pulling out his gun to unload four bullets into Kali’s spine, legs, and torso. She’d be paralyzed until Mikolas ripped them out. “Bring her to me.” MIkolas commanded to the stump, hearing it groan in displeasure at being told to do anything. Nonetheless Jennifer was brought forwards, wrapped in roots, vines, and leaves that left her immobile. “I could give you her power; bring you back to life.” Mikolas told the stump, hearing a firm  _ no _ in the way the stump rumbled. “Do you want to come with me? Become a new tree.” The stump rejoiced at the chance to be whole again, which made Mikolas smile. He seemed to be growing attached to the stump, the dying tree acting like his mother (he’d like a new mother). Mikolas smiled even brighter, “Kill them for me. Take their power to keep yourself alive while you travel.” The stump was reluctant to kill, but still sucked their bodies into the grounds like new seeds. Plants grew in their wake,  white chrysanthemums, Gardenias, lilies, and yellow roses. All showed how much the nemeton cared for him, how she’d do anything for Mikolas if that meant that they could stay together. “The only way to transport you would be to connect out souls. Are you okay with that?” 

  
The stump sound ecstatic, leaves ruffling around them with pure anticipation for what’s to come. The spell Mikolas did was short but powerful, draining his magic for days. Mikolas gasped, taken aback by the sudden burst of affection that wasn’t his.  _ Call me Nadia, my dear boy. I was called that a millennium ago. _ Nadia’s voice was deep and soothing, like a mother talking to her son.  _ ‘Okay Nadia, how are you feeling?’ _ The question was simplistic but filled Nadia with love, flowing out of her and making Mikolas appear intoxicated to anyone who could see it.  _ I haven’t been asked that in so long. I am joyous, young Mikolas, to be with you. I am joyous to be rid of that horrible magic witches forced upon me. _ Mikolas smiled, reassuring her that he was there, before jogging off to meet Peter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your appreciation lets me bathe in Deucalion's blood and causes Mikolas' rebirth. 
> 
> Lena/Lee


	4. Meet, Eat, and Come into the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> APPARENTLY MY WORK DIDN'T UPLOAD SO YA'LL GONNA GET ANOTHER FIC WITH THIS CHAPTER, AND ANOTHER GODDAMN CHAPTER CAUSE FUCK IT.
> 
> Anyways, I'm stressing out over a paper about art censorship, and someone wrote an article about paintings being destroyed, and how it made it 'better'. Sure, it made it more noticed, but no one's getting paid for the wrk they put in and everyone will forget it if it's not _seen_.

Hannibal was woken up to the sounds of clothes rustling, Will attempting to sneak out of bed, very badly Hannibal might add. “What time is it?” Hannibal asked Will, watching the profiler tense at waking Hannibal then responded, “4:13” The response was ridgid with nerves which Hannibal chose to ignore, choosing to get up instead. Hannibal noticed Will’s blush from Hannibal’s body; Hannibal chose to show it off slightly, directing his body in a way that made him look like a sculpture. Will’s awkward  _ eep _ made Hannibal smile his sphinx smile, leisurely walking to the bathroom. “We should get ready; we have a busy day ahead of us.” Will nodded his head in response, standing up in odd angles and shuffling his feet. 

 

“Uh- I-I’m going to go get dressed.” Will stammered out, fleeing downstair to his suitcase. Hannibal let out a deep chuckle only he heard before walking towards his walk-in closet. Choosing an outfit wasn’t difficult, but resisting the urge to try and dress Will in his clothes was a hard impulse to ignore. Hannibal got ready quickly, his usual routine of perfecting his hair and clothes being automatic. Walking into the kitchen, Will stood awkwardly on the other side of the kitchen island, looking quite adorable. Hannibal believes he’s being sentimental, which he looked at with distaste. “Would you like a protein scramble?” 

 

Will nodded in quick, jerky movements before nodding his head to the bathroom. “I’m gonna go shave.” By shave Will meant trim his beard, but Hannibal nodded at his all the while. While will scurried to the bathroom, Hannibal thought of how Will was dressed in a royal blue button up, which was unusual to his normal plaid layers.  _ He was trying to impress Hannibal’s nephew. _ Hannibal smiled to himself, making the human protein scramble on autopilot as he thought of Will. The agent seemed to unconsciously be trying to impress Hannibal, showing signs of attraction to the cannibal. Usually, anyone who did so address him with flourish, failing at being subtle. Hannibal appreciated the effort, deciding to encourage it by unbuttoning his shirt to show off his chest. He felt quite silly doing so, yet he knew it would cause Will to become flustered. Hannibal couldn’t help but smile at the thought. 

 

Will entered the kitchen looking delectable but uncomfortable; before Hannibal could address him, someone knocked on his door. “Will, could you answer that?” Hannibal said, sounding miffed at the intrusion. “Sure.” WIll replied, walking more camly to the door. The muffled sound of Will’s surprised caused Hannibal to pause, yet he continued cooking, adding extra ingredients to feed whoever was at the door. Slowly he heard Will and the unknown person enter the kitchen, looking up to see Abigail. She had her scarf tucked firmly in place, with a suitcase being dragged behind her. 

 

“Abigail, what a surprise.” Hannibal said, purring out the words. The teenager shifted, looking uncomfortable before announcing, “I want to come with you.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out an airplane ticket that was identical the their own. “I asked to go and she said yes.” She being Abigail’s nurse, who was absent-minded and irritating. “Of course.” Hannibal replied, seething at the thought of Abigail acting outside their plan. She already uncovered Nick’s body; she meant good, but it was still a stall in Hannibal’s already paused plan. “Sit down, both of you, the food’s almost done.” 

 

Both of them nodded, sliding into the dining room to eat. Hannibal sighed, placing the scramble into three separate plates before carrying the food to the dining room. It seems that Hannibal’s plans needed to be adjusted... _ again. _

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

The ride to the loft was filled with silence, Peter shaking by his discovery and Mikolas happily listening to Nadia sing in different languages. She promised to teach him all the ones she knew, dead and used; Mikolas conversation was cut short by Peter veering dangerously off the road, shutting off Mikolas’ car with too much desperation. Peter let out a shaky breath, head leaning heavily against the steering wheel which showed an air of fatigue. Peter opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a choked out sob. Mikolas got out of the car, opening the passenger door to get an armful of ‘wolf. He felt wet breath against his neck, choked off sobs and shuddering breaths highlighting Peter’s mourning. 

 

“What if she hates me because of Laura?” Peter choked out, grabbing at Mikolas’ shirt in a desperate attempt to have some semblance of control. “She won’t. Explain what happened, and she’ll listen.” Mikolas said, wrapping his arms around Peter. Slowly, so very, very slowly, Mikolas coaxed Peter into the passenger's seat, leaning back the seat and removing his flannel. He covered Peter with it, the man curling up on his side to hold the piece of cloth tightly in his grasp.  _ He loves you. _ Nadia stated, like it wasn’t obvious in the way he always looked at Mikolas for approval.  _ ‘I know’ _ .

 

_ Do you love him? _

 

_‘I don’t know_ ’. Mikolas drove the rest of the way to the loft, helping Peter out of the car but not up the stairs. Mikolas would leave soon, and giving Peter false hope would only lead to heart break. _You’re a liar._ Nadia said fondly, the phantom feeling of a hand stroking his hair making him smile. _‘I know’._ Walking to the loft was like walking towards an execution, knowing that Boyd and Erica might look at him like a monster (you are). Mikolas shrugged off the thought, letting Peter walk ahead and open the door to a world a ‘wolves and magic. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Derek were all sitting on the couch, the younger ‘wolves lying heavily on each other while Derek stroked Erica’s ankle. Mikolas would miss this. The casual touching, the friendship, the random moment’s of affection in between fear and hopelessness (you could’ve had this). Cora was on the ground lying between Derek’s legs, strong but broken. A mosaic made of shards of glass and pieces of bone. She was a beautiful piece of unfinished art, the shards lying there, waiting for paste to glue her together. If her and Peter talked and forgived, then they both would be whole. Amalgamations of a broken family and shattered dreams that could be fixed with a very complicated conversation. 

 

Mikolas wished he could have his family back.  _ You will always have me. _ Nadia said, sensing his distress and throwing it out the window. Mikolas didn’t respond, didn’t need to, and continued forwards. “Can I stay the night?” Mikolas asked Derek, getting a nod with a real  _ smile  _ in return. Mikolas wished could smile without it being strained. “We’ll have to talk to Scott and the Argent’s about the alpha packs...disappearance.” Derek said, sounding angry at even the thought to talk to the ignorant teenager again. Everyone nodded, not willing to break the silence, and Mikolas walked up the loft stairs into the second guest room. There was one thing Mikolas didn’t tell anyone about, not even when him and Scott were best friends. Gerard still contacted him, sending messages with a disposable cell about how it was being a ‘wolves bitch. He had traced the call, each one in a new area all around the united states. Mikolas’ phone was smashed a few days ago, the rage building up until he snapped. He had thrown his phone at the wall, watching it fall apart, and smashing the shards of glass with his converse. 

 

Mikolas had let the twins free, packed his suitcase, and burned the evidence. All that was left was to wait and think. Hannibal would definitely arrive with Will Graham, and by the pictures he’s seen, close to an intimate relationship with the profiler. Mikolas would have to worry about Will seeing through his mask (unlikely) and talking to Hannibal about killing people while he was in the house (irritating). It was a comfort to know that he still had the Hale Pack on his side, even if it was split at the moment. Where would Peter go, now that he’s become Alpha again? He wouldn’t be able to abandon Cora and Derek with the chance to fix what had happened, and Peter not following him was unlikely.  _ You’ve made love to that ‘wolf? _ Nadia said, sounding calming yet dangerous. ‘ _ Yes _ ’ Mikolas replied, tired of lying to everyone around him.  _ Do you want him? _ She asked, curious and happy. ‘ _ That doesn’t matter _ .’ Mikolas said, avoiding the question entirely. Nadia let the subject drop, choosing instead to sing a polish song from Mikolas’ childhood. He stripped to his boxer, getting into the bed he had been in with Peter so many times (i don’t want you to leave me). Mikolas laid there all night, unable to sleep because of the things he was about to leave behind. That was the problem: now faced with what he was about to do, he couldn’t help but remember what he once had. 

 

He got back up at ten (Mikolas was exhausted), and discarding his thoughts in favor of getting dressed. He shucked on some jeans, throwing on a tight shirt and a jacket.  _ Trying to impress anyone? _ Nadia asked smugly, which caused Mikolas to huff in irritation.  It was nice, having someone know everything about you without having to  _ tell _ (is that how Hannibal feels?). It wasn’t the same as having someone go through the same troubles, but Nadia has dealt with a lot, which means events that happened to Mikolas were similar to Mikolas’ own. Maybe when he leaves, he can forget about werewolves. Live like he was meant to, spending hours at a time looking through colleges and homework. It sounded dull without someone who knew what Mikolas was.The thought was completely innocent, but bringing them to the Ripper’s den would lead to trouble. 

 

Mikolas sighed, walking downstairs to see the pack spread across the living, all touching in some way: Hands against ankles, shoulders against shoulders, legs intertwined until you couldn’t tell where each ‘wolf ended. It filled him with warmth, knowing the pack was going to be okay without him; Seeing them also filled Mikolas with a sharp stab of pain, knowing he wasn’t useful anymore. Nadia’s cooing helped calm him, knowing she would always be there, in the earth, in the  _ air _ . His world could revolve around her, growing her into something beautiful but lethal; they could be a new start. The idea was appealing, but the thought of leaving so many left him hollow. He was starting to get used to the idea of  _ hollowness _ , something he couldn’t fill with normal people. Nadia was too powerful, too strong to fit inside his hollow chest, but she carved her way into his chest cavity, over filling him with pure and unfiltered love. Mikolas paused, then decided to only wake up Derek. 

 

“Hey. Where do you want me to take my Uncle?” Mikolas asked the ‘wolf, watching Derek jolt awake with a start. “Bring them here. If we ever visit or need you help, then they’ll need to know.” Mikolas nodded, small smile on his face for being  _ wanted _ . “I’ll grab something to make on my way back. Wake your pups.” Mikolas stated, walking gracefully over the pile of bodies to get to the door. The new door, the renovated loft that Mikolas forgot was fixed. Hannibal and his acquaintances could stay on the floor below them, where they could remain in their own space. Mikolas jogged down the slightly muddy stairs (there’s blood on his shoes) and walked to his car, which smelled like dirt and tear. Mikolas sprayed air freshener, lavender scented, before heading to the airport. The ride would be an hour long there and back, which gave Mikolas ample time to think about how to bring up the whole Ripper and werewolves situation. Blunt sounded good, but hinting at it might cause a fight between Will and Hannibal. Mikolas didn’t want to deal with that.  _ You love your uncle even though he slaughters? _ Nadia asked, still not used to emotions.    
  
“Yeah. He’s the only family I have left.” Mikolas said out loud, not needing people to worry about if he was crazy. It was refreshing to talk to someone like the were his mother, reassuring him that he still had someone that  _ cared _ . 

 

_ I could take a more...Human form. _ Nadia mused in his head.  _ Anyone, really. Anything that could be imagined.  _ Mikolas hummed, smiling slightly at her hinting. “Choose what feels right, and we’ll go from there.” Mikolas gave into Nadia’s request, smiling as he saw someone out of the corner of his eye. She looked like Vica Kerekes with black hair and startling blue eyes, making Mikolas smile. “You look lovely.” Mikolas said instead of addressing her nudity, which was taken care of quickly based on how Mikolas had a closet in his trunk (never gonna know who’s gonna stab you). Nadia smiled brightly at his approval, dressing herself elegantly with baggy flannel and evn baggier jeans. “Thank you, dearest.” Nadia said, pleased to be able to  _ touch, feel Mikolas finally. _ Mikolas held up his hand, letting Nadia link their fingers together with a smirk. 

 

“Wanna listen to music?” Mikolas asked her brightly, getting a bright smile in return, “I have not heard music in centuries, ever since I’ve been forgotten.” Her smiled dimmed slightly, before starting to fidget with the radio. She sighed heavily, obviously confused at the technology and growing impatient. Mikolas reached over, flicking on the radio and letting Panic! At The Disco pour out of the speakers. Nadia squealed in delight, the most childish sound she’s ever made, before swaying to the beat.  _ Impossible Year  _ was gloomy yet helped ease Nadia into the music, and listened to her hum along. It was nice to have someone that he knew wouldn’t leave him, because he hadn’t left her. They became a duo when Nadia ruffled a  _ yes _ in leaves and wind, binding them together. Mikolas dies, so does Nadia. Their bodies are mirrors, injuries showing for each. Both with a small bruise on their wrist from Scott’s painful grappling. Mikolas shook off the phantom hand, grabbing at Nadia’s hand instead. She smiled, content and pliant, before leaning her head on Mikolas’ shoulder. 

 

The ride was silent, the occasional Nadia messing with the radio the only noise in the big jeep. Mikolas saw the airport and checked his watch: 11:45AM. They’d either have to wait in the car, or go into the airport. But with Nadia’s inability to act normal, Mikolas opted for the latter. It was easy to sit in the car, each one sorting through each other memories. Mikolas whipped out his phone, sending out a quick text,  _ In the blue jeep _ , before going back to their memories. Nadia’s were filled with darkness and light, being used as a conductor no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t stop the darkness and it hurt her, made her look malicious, which made Mikolas’ rage burn like a fucking forest fire. Nadia put her hand on his shoulder, laying it down comfortably and helping Mikolas quell his ever growing need to kill whoever hurt her.

 

“I’ll be your sword.” Mikolas broke the silence, determination filling his every pore. “And I,” Nadia said, stroking his cheek, “Your shield.” Mikolas let himself relish in the moment of their togetherness, at being able to finally have someone who loves him for what he is. “You were a wonderful mother.” Mikolas said, remember the look if pure joy on giggling toddlers faces as she raised them to the sky and flew they like plane. “Those children were very close to this time, the little girl’s name was Mischa. I don’t remember the boy, too solemn.” Nadia noted back, eyes filling with tears. “They took me from my family and made me into a weapon.” She wept openly, letting Mikolas pull her into his lap, the large Jeep accommodating for the duo. Mikolas heard the back doors of the jeep but ignored it in favor of addressing Nadia, “Stop it. You couldn’t save them, and they are still alive. We will find them, or I will let you go so you can see them.” The statement was a shock to the trio in the back, watching a teenager basically profess his undying love to an adult. 

 

“Nadia, we’ll win this. You’ve basically raised me now, don’t give up yet.” Nadia only clung to Mikolas’ jacket, holding onto him as if he would disappear. “Don’t worry, I’m not made of shadows (i’m made of chaos)” Mikolas’ horrible joke made Nadia laugh lightly, body elegantly contorting to fit back in the passenger seat. “No, you are made of something else. I think I will sleep. Would you mind?” Nadia asked, drained from using her powers and sobbing. Mikolas nodded, grabbing her hand, before starting the car. 

 

“That’s Nadia. She’s like a mom to me. I’m staying at my friends loft, where we already set up for you guys. Anyways, I have to go to the store and grab some stuff. You guys good with that?” Mikolas addressed the trio: Hannibal, Will, and Abigail. They nodded, Hannibal looking uncomfortable that his expensive suit was being ruined. Abigail and Will looked excited at the fast woods around Beacon County. “Okay, first things first: Basically all the woods belong to the Hales, who we’re staying with. Free-range to explore as long as you have a chaperone.” Mikolas watched as Abigail and Will brimmed with excitement while Hannibal clearly looked uncomfortable to even be offered to go into the woods. 

 

“Okay, so the drive to Beacon Hills will be around forty-five minutes, but an extra hour with shopping. Then your going to meet the misfits.” Mikolas stated, flicking on his blinker to take a shortcut through the woods. Mikolas let a pulse of magic, sensing the flora and fauna in the area. No humans for miles, and a deer running alongside the car; Mikolas could easily get to the store in thirty if he continued the way he was going. Mikolas watched the shadows and light dance in the canopy of trees, the shadows making Mikolas frowned. The way they moved, danced, it was like the-

 

“I can see the appeal of living here.” Oh, so Hannibal does speak. Mikolas nodded, shaking Nadia awake. She awoke with such content that it broke Mikolas’ heart to tell her the news. “Nadia? We’ve got a problem.” Mikolas said, watching her sit ridgid with worry. He gestured ahead of himself, the shadows growing and slithering around the forest floor. “Okay, I’m sick of this shit. I can’t have a normal day, can I? No, because that’s too easy-” Mikolas mumbled to himself, halted by Nadia’s posture. “This is bullshit, I shouldn’t have to deal with this. They almost took her, isn’t that enough?” Mikolas said, grabbing Nadia’s hand. “Now that I no longer contain him, he is free. Dying, but free.” Nadia said, rubbing her thumb over Mikolas’ knuckles in comfort. “Darkness can only be contained, not demolished.” Nadia said after a pause, remembering all the people who had ruined her. 

 

“Yes, but I’d like for the shadows to just fucking  _ leave _ .” Mikolas sighed, interrupted by Abigail’s, “What are you talking about?” Mikolas’ eyes flashed to hers through the rearview mirror, seeing false confusion and manipulation in her eyes. Mikolas was too tired for this. “I’ll explain with my friends when we get to the loft; right now, we’re going  _ grocery shopping _ .” Mikolas’ false excitement got a dry chuckle from Nadia, and a small smirk from Will; Hannibal looked fifty shades of  _ unimpressed. _ “Anyways, rules! Everyone in this town knows everyone, which means anyone I see will try to talk to us. Be kind, and just let me talk since they’re very...gossipy.” Mikolas settled on, turning  onto to main road that lead everywhere in Beacon Hills, honestly. Naida started humming, one of the Russian songs she remembers from when she was human. Mikolas just smiled at her, receiving a small smile in return. The car fell silent, the clunky motor scaring Hannibal. Mikolas saw how disgusted Hannibal was of his car, and  the way he dressed, and Mikolas wanted to laugh. He did, but that wasn’t the point. “I know i’m hurting your delicate sensibilities from how I live, but soon enough I’ll live with you.” Mikolas winked at Hannibal through the rearview mirror, getting a twitch of Hannibal’s right eye in response. Mikolas seemed to have a knack for pissing off psychopaths, or so his history stated. Speaking of psychopaths, Mikolas’ phone was ringing. 

 

“Hello-” Mikolas drew out, interrupted by harsh breathing and bitter words, “Oh  _ Stiles _ , I’ve missed all the fun we’ve had together.” Honestly, Mikolas considered smashing his phone by how often Gerard contacted him. “Last time I checked, out time together was  _ torture _ , not  _ fun _ .” Mikolas hissed out, patient wearing thin by horrible memories. “How do you keep getting my number? Are one of your goons following me?” Mikolas kept talking, trying to keep his voice low. The trio in the back hear anyways, and Mikolas  _ really wanted to smash his phone _ .  Abigail’s annoying intake of breath, Will’s confused grunt, and Hannibal’s curious eyebrow quirk. Mikolas could tell Hannibal was interested in Mikolas’ past, and wanted to take full advantage. Although Derek was going to explain the werewolf thing to the trio, Mikolas decided to save time by clicking the speaker button on his phone. He tossed his phone in his lap, Gerard’s harsh breathing filling the old car. “Oh Stiles, but you broke so  _ beautifully _ in my hands.” Gerard purred out, and Mikolas ground his teeth tightly. “Last time I check old man, I told you jack shit about my family.” 

 

Gerard’s bark of a laugh was sharp and dangerous, “Your family? I thought Deucalion tore out you father’s heart?” Gerard’s insult was disguised as a question, which just continued to give. “Oh, wait! It wasn’t just his heart, was it? It was also his brain, correct?” Mikolas sighed, hearing Nadia grunt in anger at not being able to talk. “Well, it seems you forgot that I am still part of Derek’s pack. Also, I left you a gift at the bank...I hope you liked it.” Mikolas smiled cruelly, tapping out a quick code on Nadia’s thigh,  _ Calm down _ . The immortal was seething next to him, harsh breaths and jerky movements. She quelled her anger, slowly relaxing in her seat and grabbing Mikolas’ right hand. “Oh, it was lovely, Stiles. It was kind of you to get rid of a few  _ mutts. _ Speaking of Mutts, are you still the Hale’s bitch? Or do they toss you around like a toy?” Gerard’s barb missed it’s mark by miles, Mikolas actually finding it quite funny that Gerard was desperate for a reaction. “Actually, I am only being fucked by one ‘wolf, for your information. They are treat their...toys...Better than any hunters have.” Mikolas’ barb hit it’s mark, a perfect bullseye in the center of it’s desired target. 

 

“ _ Revolting _ . Your just like those beast that need to be _ put down _ .” Gerard snarled, the sound of his hands slamming against some surface reaching the microphone. Mikolas turned into the store’s parking lot, sighing at the amount of cars. Mrs. Anderson was there, who kept trying to get in contact with Mikolas after his father’s unfortunate death. “Sorry to end this call so soon, but it seems I need groceries.” Mikolas said, hanging up on Gerard before ending the call. Gerard’s protest was cut short, and Mikolas pulled into a parking spot. Right next to Mrs. Reyes car, who was sitting there crin.  _ Fucking shit. _ Mikolas turned his frantic eyes to Nadia, asking for help to deal with the grieving parent, and all he got was a shrug. Mikolas sighed, turned to the trio, “I’ll explain the phone call when we get to the loft, but right now we have to get food.” Mikolas unlocked the car doors, stepping out and ignoring Abigail’s response. Everyone followed, and the sounds of sobbing got sounder as Mrs. Reyes approached. Mikolas sighed once again, turning around to face a new battle. Mrs. Reye’s panicked eyes caught his, and she sobbed harder. 

 

“ _ Oh Stiles _ .” She said, breaking down further. Mikolas walked forwards, wrapping his arms around her smaller, delicate frame (So weak, you could kill her easily). “ _ She’s still gone. _ ” Erica’s mother cried out, like the sound of claws against a chalkboard. “We’ll find her, Mrs. Reyes, and I won’t leave until I do.” The promise made her grasp at Mikolas tighter, nails biting into his skin and leaving red marks. Mikolas hissed lightly between his teeth, pulling away from the blonde hair that was choking him. “Be careful, young man, we don’t need another missing child.” Mrs. Reyes’ voice was concerned but more put together, making Mikolas smirk. “When am I not careful?” The question made Reyes’ dryly chuckle, smacking his chest lightly. “Last time i checked, you didn’t know what careful _ means _ .” 

 

She hugged him again, ignoring the rest of his posse in favor of walking back to her car. Once she was inside Nadia accused him, “You lied.” Mikolas smiled at Nadia’s confusion, giving her an explanation of, “I didn’t lie. I won’t leave until we’ve found her, and we did.” Mikolas shrugged slightly, smiling at the light in Nadia’s eyes. That glimmer was dangerous, showing appreciation and morbid curiosity. “I am...confused.” Hannibal said, looking pained to admit he didn’t know everything. Mikolas turned to him, seeing his slightly wrinkled suit and arrogant posture - god complex. “Werewolves are real, and we found the missing kids. We’re just waiting for them to heal before they are sent back home.” Mikolas’ answer didn’t actually  _ answer _ , it caused more confusion and Nadia’s amusement. “Should we show them?” Nadia asked Mikolas, “It would be less complex.” Mikolas tossed the idea around in his head, “Yes, but after we get food. Hannibal since you’re a connoisseur, you’re gonna have to direct me.” The glint in Hannibal’s eyes at Mikolas’ mention of food caused the younger man to worry, which he ignored. “Of course.” Hannibal purred out in his rich European accent, which was unfair because it was  _ attractive _ . Why is his uncle more attractive than him? Ah, the psychopathic mindset, that is why. 

 

Mikolas sighed, letting Nadia link their arms together, before the group walked into the store. Mikolas thought about how their group was, and decided on the proper term to call them was a  _ murder. _ A group a crows, who waited for death before devouring the remains. Picking apart a body even after it’s had enough. Mikolas sighed again, silent and unheard, before continuing with the murder. He walked, followed Hannibal with his cart, and everyone remained silent; the store remained silent, the shoppers staring at the orphan and the people kind enough to take him in. The pity was cloying, sweet with a hint of bitterness...like chocolate. Dark chocolate that reminded Mikolas of the dirt of the preserve, the sun setting and lighting the brown, dead leaves in gold. It was annoying and unneeded, but Mikolas dealt, staying reserved and closed off the the citizens in the store. Nadia gripped him tighter, and Mikolas looked up. Jackson Whittemore was there, staring at Mikolas with hate and disgust. Mikolas thought about leaving. 

 

The hybrid approached the group, anger making his steps deafening in the already quiet store. His approach made the murder pause for a moment before Hannibal continued inspecting the vegetables with disdain. Mikolas walked forwards, unlocking himself from Nadia to face the jackass. “Still scared of the dark, Stilinski?” Jackson sneered, the barb hitting it’s mark. 

 

_ It was dark when Stiles woke up. He saw Erica and Bod strung of like cattle ready to be drained, looking around the room dizzily. The muffled sounds of their screams were unheard, and Stiles wobbled to his feet. Tripping over nothing, his body swaying dangerous as the room spun and flipped around him. A door opened, a door Stiles hasn’t noticed before, and Gerard stepped through. Gerard was talking, insulting him and Scott and their pack, before heading to a table. He picked up a knife, another thing Stiles didn’t see, before confidently walking towards him. The ‘wolves’ screams got louder and more violent before Gerard made a slow cut across Stiles’ thigh. He held in his scream, falling down from the pain before spitting out a, “fuck you.” Gerard laughed as he held Stiles down, carving into his skin like clay.  _

 

_ Stiles never screamed, only edging Gerard on when he turned to the ‘wolves’. Finally Gerard left, only for a moment, and gave Stiles enough time to unhook the car batteries frying Derek’s pack. He untied them, let them free after they promised to come back to him. _

 

_ Stiles lied. He screamed when Gerard ripped off his pants, when he cut deeper and used Stiles’ blood as- _

 

Mikolas was brought back to the present by Jackson’s, “What? Too pussy to talk?” Mikolas’ eyes turned dark as he stared at the man that was now a beast, “No. But last time I checked, didn’t you run after you got what you wanted?” Mikolas watched Jackson seeth, watched his face light up with rage as he shifted his feet. “We can insult each other later; right now, I have to grab food.” Mikolas said, watching Jackson become offended by his clear dismissal before the hybrid stomped off. Nadia walked up to him, grabbing his arm and holding him back before Mikolas turned to the group of psychos. “I’ll explain later.” He got nods in response, Will’s, “You seem to say that a lot.” His words were light but questioning, and Mikolas shrugged. “Yeah, I probably do.” 

 

They were silent collecting food, Mikolas throwing in some of the packs favorites: pop tarts, hot pockets, popcorn, and peanut butter cookies. Slowly, after an hour of shopping, they finally check out. Mikolas payed and loaded with car with Abigail as everyone stepped inside. She was manipulative, a wolf in sheep’s wool. She hid behind grief and guilt, made people do things because of worry or pity. It was smart, but someone will call her out for it. Hannibal probably did, by the way she looks at him with fear and respect. Mikolas sighed as he threw the last bag in, Abigail and him entering the beat of jeep. Mikolas drove as everyone remained quiet, which Mikolas prefered over being bombarded with questions. Serial killers where nice to have as company, since they only every waited (more like hunted). 

 

Making it to the loft was easier, but getting the groceries up three flights of stairs was the hard part. Mikolas sighed, stepping out of the jeep, “Come help carry up the food.” He said it lightly, the pack hearing him, the sound of footsteps following his command. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd walked down, all heading to the trunk without question. “Got your favorites.” He said unlocking the car and letting the others out. They nodded, Erica’s bright smile enough of a thank you. Mikolas looked at the trio announcing, “You’ll all be sharing a floor. Three bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen.” Abigail nodded elegantly, Will nodded jerkily. Hannibal sighed before asking, “Do we not need to pay for the rooms?” Hannibal’s question made Erica bark out a laugh, the Ripper frowning at her. “The Hales own the loft, which means we all do.” Erica grunted as she lifted up too many bags to be considered normal. Mikolas watched Hannibal analyze her, and frowned because his friends were not food. Mikolas smiled, Nemo popping into his head. Hannibal wouldn’t appreciate the comparison. 

 

“Alright, I’ll show you your floor, and in a few minutes you can meet the gang.” Mikolas said, motioning for the trio to follow him. Nadia stayed by the car, helping the ‘wolves carry the bags. Mikolas didn’t like the thought of leaving her, weak from using up so much magic, but relented when she quirked her eyebrow at him. He led them, the wolf, the fawn, and the stag to the second floor, Hannibal clearly irritated to the lack of a working elevator. Once they arrived, Mikolas opened the door with flourish, walking in the large living room. “Okay! First things first, the Hale’s names are Derek, Cora, and Peter. My friends are Isaac, Erica, and Boyd; they’re the ones who carried the bags. There are a few more people there, like the guy you guys saw at the store, Jackson. You don’t have to remember their names, but please do not start a fight with anyone.” Mikolas ended his speech with a wave of his hand, smiling at the group. They nodded, Will looked around the area, “Which room are we staying in?” 

 

Mikolas pointed to the large hallway stating, “Down that hall is the bathroom and bedrooms; you each get your own, and choose your own. I need to talk to Derek, but before I do, do you guys need anything?” Will’s awkward shuffled showed he wanted to go him in his room, and Abigail’s crossed arms spoke volumes. Hannibal, on the other hand, looked curious. “May I meet your friends?” Hannibal’s statement made Will hunch over (anchor), which made Mikolas look at the shorter man in sympathy. “Course. Follow me.” Mikolas led Hannibal from the second floor, meeting Nadia in front of the next flight of stairs. She walked behind Hannibal, following the duo to the loft. Mikolas opened to door, yelling out a, “Miss me?” To his pack. Erica screamed out a  _ fuck yeah _ , while Derek snorted in response. 

 

“Hannibal, these are my friends. Derek and company, this is Nadia and Hannibal, resident Uncle and Nemeton.” The pack froze, looking at Nadia with mistrust and Hannibal with calculation. “Nadia doesn’t bite.” Derek was tense but stood up, offer Hannibal his hand and a gruff, “Derek Hale.” Hannibal nodded, shaking Derek’s hand while replying, “Hannibal Lecter.” Nadia ignored their greeting, shuffling close to Mikolas with fear. Mikolas grabbed her by her waist, pulling her flush against his side for protection. “Well, since we’re all here, let’s have a….discussion. You guys might want to sit down.” Mikolas addressed the whole pack, getting muttered protests and frowns at being told what to do. Peter had crept out of his hole, lounging on the stairs in perfect view of the exit. Mikolas and Nadia sat on the floor, while the pack laid on the couch, and Hannibal sat in the only armchair. “Well, first of all, meet my selected family. They are werewolves.” Mikolas said bluntly, Derek’s snort making Mikolas look up. 

 

“Mischief, werewolves are not real.” Hannibal told him, actual concern written across his features as Mikolas’ statement. Mikolas smiled, gesturing at Derek to do what he does best. Derek complied, face shifting and hair growing into his beta-shift. “Before you freak out, everyone in this room, except for Nadia, you, and I are….somewhat human. I’m a spark, magic user, and Nadia is….Nadia.” Mikolas said, helpless with understanding what Nadia is. She shrugged, answering with, “Men in the past called me a goddess, and now I am called a demon.” She scowled at the new title she never wanted and never meant to earn, lost in thought of the people and creatures she had met. Mikolas knocked his shoulder against hers, a support and anchor out of her mind. 

 

“This is a lot to take in, Mischief.” Hannibal stated, almost scoldingly, which made Mikolas smiled. “Well, since you know our secret, here’s yours - You're a cannibal, Chesapeake Ripper, Il Mostro Di Firenze, etc.” Mikolas stated brightly, adding on, “And we’ve encountered worse than you, so we’re not gonna do shit about it, right guys?” Mikolas addressed the pack at the end, smiling childishly at his pack. “As long as he doesn’t hurt you.” Erica said with a shrug, smile sharp and warning. “Down, Catwoman.” Mikolas said to Erica, getting a laugh in return. 

 

“You’ve saved us all, and all you have to show for it is your father’s death, and scars. It’s the least we can do.” Derek said diplomatically, trying to ration why Mikolas didn’t want to kill Hannibal. “You know what happens when I consider someone mine.” Mikolas stated, “You have the Alpha Pack as proof of that.” 

 

“Well, I am at a loss for what to say.” Hannibal said, looking at the ‘wolves with calculation and mistrust. Mikolas shrugged in response, getting up and helping the Goddess to her feet. “My name used to be Nantosuelta.” Nadia said to him, randomly but with reason. “I’m gonna call you Nanto.” Mikolas replied, smiling at her. She smiled back. Mikolas jerked when he heard the loft door open, Will and Abigail walking in nervously, single file. Mikolas looked at them, watching them project their awkwardness. Mikolas sighed at the duo, motioning for them to come in. “Abigail Hobbs and Will Graham, Meet Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, and Isaac Lahey. Cora Hale’s in her room.” Mikolas said, pointing to each member with extravagance. Will waved awkwardly and Abigail’s smile was forced, face mourning and sympathy dancing across her features. 

 

Derek got up, throwing Erica’s feet off his lap despite her protests. He held his hand out to the duo, again being polite, and shaking Abigail’s hand. Will didn’t respond, which made Mikolas wonder why Hannibal hasn’t eaten him yet. The silence intensified, everyone quiet and frozen. Derek put down his hand, frowning at Will, before going to sit down. 

 

“Hey mom, can I borrow your shirt? I have a job interview.” Isaac asked Mikolas, motioning to the shirt Mikolas was currently wearing. It was a crimson short sleeve shirt with unneeded, and Mikolas nodded. He took of his grey jacket, throwing at Erica just to hear her squak in protest. “I should’ve hit you hard with your bumper.” She grumbled, faux angry and crossing her arms across her chest. Mikolas laughed at her response, whipping off his shirt and offering it to the youngest ‘wolf. “The Argents and McCall’s will be here in an hour. It’s their choice,” Derek said, pointing at the trio near the door, “If they want to be involved.” Derek got up, ignoring Will’s questioning looks if favor of getting a coffee. “Well this was a fascinating conversation.” Peter stated once Derek started making coffee, waving his arm in a flippant gesture. Mikolas turned to Peter, looking at the man blankly. “Thank you so much for your input, it’s ever so helpful.” 

 

Peter made a face at Mikolas’ statement, face twisting into a snarky grin. “What can I say? I was made to be useful.” Mikolas sighed at Peter’s antics, rolling his eyes and calling out, “Derek! Make another for me.” He got a growl in response, but heard Derek start making another cup with the keurig Mikolas bought him as a housewarming gift. Mikolas turned towards Nanto, smiling at the goddess. “Suicide is a better alternative.” Mikolas told her, the goddess smiling knowingly at his anger. “You’ll have to deal with it sometimes. And that time has come.” She said, walking towards a stool in the kitchen. “Yeah, but I just really want to kill him.” Mikolas said, everyone sighing at the thought of dealing with the True Alpha. “He didn’t even earn his title!” Erica complained loudly, groaning at the thought. “Derek or hell, even  _ Peter _ , derverved it more than him!” She snuggled closer against Boyd’s chest, the man grunting his agreement as he played with the blonde’s hair. “Sorry Isaac.” Erica added as an afterthought, the delicate man shrugging in response. “He kinda let me be used as target practice from Allison, so he’s not that great in my book.” Isaac looked hurt, remembering Allison’s betrayal, which she never apologized for. “So far, the only nice Argent we met is Chris.” Mikolas said, watching shock slap themselves on Will and Abigail’s faces. 

 

“Oh yeah, everyone except for us, Naida, Hannibal, and me are werewolves. Erica, demonstrate.” Mikolas stated, motioning for the ‘wolf to do what she does best. She turned to face the confused duo, her features shifting as Mikolas asked. Will took a step back, hand reaching for the gun concealed in the back of his jeans. Abigail hid behind the empath, using him as a human shield. “Will, these are Mischief’s friends.” Hannibal said, speaking up after analyzing the situation. Will froze, hand slowly going back to his sides. 

  
  


“Okay.” Isaac said, standing up, “I’m gonna head to my job interview, and i really don’t wanna run into Allison.” The blonde slowly walked past Will and Abigail, leaving after everyone called out their goodbyes. “Well, I’m gonna go get a shirt.” Mikolas stated after watching Will stare at his scars, making Mikolas angry that the man  _ never said anything _ , no matter how much anyone pushed. He walked past the monsters, running up the spiral stairs to his room. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steter's a thing, Will wants to impress Stiles so he won't talk, and Hannibal wants to eat Erica. 
> 
> Your comments' season Erica's thighs and your kudos make Will talk to Stiles like a normal person.   
>  [ Tumblr](https://len0306a.tumblr.com)
> 
> Lena/Lee.


	5. A Conversation of Weakness and Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to "Lee having a mental breakdown"
> 
> Jk jk but if you want any pics, prompt me on my Tumblr, in my end notes.

Nantosuelta stared at the Ravenstag, his antlers of ivory flashing dangerously in the light. She saw the wolf behind him, it cowering and growling in fear and anger at the real ‘wolves in front of him. He was over analyzing the ‘wolves in the room, the fear and darkness making him cautious and wary. Nanto’s eyes shifted to the Hales, seeing Derek’s light fighting the darkness within. So  _ good _ but broken, shattered, and trying to hold the shards together. Nanto sighed, knowing what was to come. She would leave with Mikolas, and the pack would crumble. Their pillar of support would leave them collapsing, unless someone managed to fix the Alpha of the Hale Pack. She could contact a old hunter by the name of Braeden, give her the Desert Wolf in exchange for settling in Beacon Hills. Mikolas’ departure left silence in its wake, and Nanto open for attack. She will be kind to the pack of damaged ‘wolves, for Mikolas sake. The pack has pulled their punches and taken too many, but if Nanto took the True Alpha’s power, returning it to the land...It may just fix their pack. Give them a new project, letting them come together and become a true pack. 

 

She sighed, and stood in front of the Hale pack, sitting in the middle of the floor. “I am sure you have many questions on what and who I am. A friend of Mikolas’ is a friend of mine, and I will answer them truthfully.” Her speech was meant with silence, until the young Hale spoke, “Did you have in say when you were the nemeton?” Nanto laughed quietly, mournfully, at the simple question. “No. They removed me from the family I had taken in, and forced me to become a conduit for whatever the wiccans wanted.” Nanto bit back a sob, biting her tongue and resting her hands in her lap. “What are your intentions with Stiles?” Peter asked from the stairway, stalking over to her and unleashing his claws. “He saved me,” She choked out, remembering the teen talking to her no matter what had happened, “He grounded me, kept me safe when I was defenceless. I am in debit to him until he decides he does not want me.” The pack nodded in answer, all satisfied by her answer. 

 

“What are you?” The wolf in soul asked, brown curls hiding his eyes. Nanto smiled, head tilted up and  _ remembering _ . “I was called a Goddess. I was a mother, by blood and by choice, and then called a demon. They ran my from my forest to a world across the ocean, and caged me in  _ roots _ . Mikolas set me free.” Nanto’s answer made the wolf, Will, squint his eyes in answer. “Are you tell me God is real?” He asked, and Nanto laughed. She laughed because of humanities mistakes. “Oh heavens no! That was a insane man that claimed himself to be king of heaven, and was killed for his treasons. Another man claimed it to be true, using parlor tricks and calling it ‘miracles’.” Nanto said simply, smiling slightly. “Anyone could be considered a god if they were a good actor.” She added on, pausing to look at the staircase at Mikolas’ descend. She smiled at the spark, knowing he heard every word. 

 

She watched him walk over to her, leaning against her side and grabbing the drink Derek made for him. She noticed the leather cuffs he wore, runes showing agility, strength, knowledge, and control. She smiled at the show of power inside the worn down cuffs, leaning against Mikolas in return. “Alright, they’ll be here shortly.” Mikolas said to Derek, watched him turn his body slightly towards the ‘wolf. Her power of nature and fertility also passed to emotions, showing who felt what based on auras and strings the connected the people around them. His love for Peter was a pure golden red, while his love for Derek was pink and black, love built on pain and concern. Derek’s though, was red and black, lust and love made from pain and trust. Peter’s was protective, glowing bright and reciprocating Mikolas’ emotions. Perfect, if they allowed it. That choice was up to Peter, whether he’d leave with Mikolas after Cora’s appearance. 

 

Nanto sighe, looking around and watching anger and worry paint the room. Will’s was something unsteady, distrust making him wary of new people. Nanto looked around, noticing Mikolas’ rage and Hannibal’s calm. She knows what comes next, fights and tears and strife because of McCall’s actions. She, personally, hated the ‘wolf for allowing the elder Stilinski’s death, yet allowed him to keep his power because of Mikolas’ wishes. Now, though, she would take it away, for the better of the Hale Pack, and for her darling boy. Nanto held Mikolas’ hand tightly, conveying her plans. He nodded, rubbing her shoulder before sitting in the stool next to her. This was going to end horribly. 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

Mikolas heard the loft door open, McCall opening the door without invitation or knocking. By the clenched jaws he saw, no one was happy for his ignorance, including Hannibal. His mother, Melissa McCall, walking in, knocking on the door frame to provide some sort of apology. “Melissa.” Mikolas greeted warmly, watching her eyes water at the sight of his. “My  _ Mischief _ .” She sobbed, rushing towards him as he stood up. She collided against him, arms strongly wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush against her front. “Hey.” Mikolas said, petting her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her shoulder. She pulled away reluctantly, standing up to approach Hannibal; she held out her hand politely in greeting. “Melissa McCall. Please, take care of our boy.” She said, getting a  _ Hannibal Lecter _ in response. “Of course, he is my family.” Hannibal said after a pause, both adults removing their hands and Melissa sitting down in Mikolas’ stool. Mikolas leaned against the table, the sound of the Argent’s car breaking the tense silence. They waited, Derek standing up to greet the hunters’ after they knocked. He shaked hands with Chris, ignoring Allison completely, before turning around. “Alright, we’ll talk in the dining room.” Derek said, walking down the hall with everyone trailing behind. 

 

Mikolas trailed behind, bringing the trio of psychopaths with them. “Stay in between me and the ‘wolves, and don’t talk. I’ll explain later.” He got irritated nods from Abigail and Will, and a deft eyebrow quirk from Hannibal. He ignored it, walking forwards to the dining room. Nanto left seats for them, four seats innocently sitting between Scott and the Goddess. Mikolas sighed at the placement, but sat beside the True Alpha without complaint. 

 

“Okay, so far the Alpha Pack’s been taken down, but I don’t know about Jennifer.” Derek stated, looking at Mikolas for an answer. Mikolas provided, “She’s dead.” He stated, Scott’s jerk annoying him to no end. “So that’s it? We kill people, now? We’re just as bad as Deucalion!” Scott said, standing up and slamming his chair back. Mikolas turned to Scott, blanly answering, “Sorry, I didn’t realize we’ve killed hundreds of innocent packs. Please, continue?” Mikolas said, voice fakely kind. “Oh! I get what you’re saying.” Mikolas started, Derek’s warning growl not being acknowledged. “You mean the pack killing people. Well, to help you sleep at night, I was the one who killed the Alpha Pack and Darach. So technically, I’m the killer.” Mikolas said, leaning forwards on the table and holding his head in his head innocently. Scott’s flash of eyes was a warning that no one ignored, but Mikolas was looking for a fight now. “Scott!” Melissa called out, slamming her hand down on the table. “Sit down, we’ll discuss this later.” Scott sat down with a huff, arms crossed like a petulant child. Mikolas’ smirk was hidden when he turned to Chris, “Anything coming for us?” He asked politely, trying not to let his words become tainted with anger. 

 

“So far, the Dread Doctors are rumored to be coming here. They turn weres into something else, but i’m not sure what.” Chris said, motioning at Peter. “So far, they’re coming for the nemeton, which means they’re coming for Nanto.” Peter said, pointing at the Goddess. “But since Stiles pulled Nanto out, who was powering the nemeton, the Dread Doctors might fuck off somewhere else.” Peter said, Mikolas rolling his eyes at Peter’s extravagant gestures. Mikolas looked around the room, the only people looking irritated was Scott, Allison, and Hannibal. The cannibal’s anger was caused by McCall’s rudeness, and the duos were caused by the killing. 

 

“Well, is there anything else to report?” Derek asked, looking at Chris. “The Hunter’s Tribunal is on my ass about the recent death rate. But since the nemeton is out of stock, we won’t have to deal with them. Although you’ll have to start making alliances to become a real pack in the Tribunal’s eyes.” Chris said to Derek, everyone nodding or remaining emotionless. 

 

“So that’s it? Stiles gets to get away with murdering innocent people?” Scott said, and Mikolas snapped. Throwing out his hand, he pushed a blast of magic at the true alpha, holding him up against the wall. He threw out a knife, the one strapped to his torso, watching it sink into McCall’s leg. “What out, or you’ll piss off the murderer.” Mikolas sang out, voice airy and light. Derek snorted, while Allison look enraged at the display. “You can’t just-” Allison’s protests died when Chris put his hand on Allison’s shoulder, turning towards Derek. “And that’s our last problem. Scott’s gonna go feral without wolves in his pack, and a feral, true alpha will bring all the hunters across the  _ country _ if they could claim they killed him.” chris sounded exasperated, while Allison made a betrayed noise. “So you’re just gonna kill him? Is that all-” 

 

“Shut up, Allison.” Mikolas said dangerously, watching her pale from hearing his voice. “Nanto is the solution.” With that, Mikolas explained her power of giving and taking, how it would be done and how simple it was, as long as no one interrupted her. With that, “Allison, if you intervene, Scott could die.” Mikolas said to her, staring at her waiting for a nod. He got a sobbed  _ yes _ in response, and stood up. He looked at Nanto, her standing up to do what she was asked. She walked towards the silenced alpha, muttering a spell before sticking her hands in his chest. They watched the skin pull and push at the intrusion, Nanto’s hands pulling away with the Alpha Spark. Her hands were bloody but Scott’s chest was not, no wound to show for his lost. This was where Nanto decided to not stick to the plan and give Derek the Alpha Spark, instead shoving it into Mikolas chest unexpectedly. Mikolas ground his teeth, biting back a scream, “Why?” He asked, looking down at the Goddess. “It would’ve burnt him from the inside out.” Nanto responded, the pack looking pale at the discovery. 

 

Mikolas’ hair grew, all the way down to his chin, curled and shining brightly. “What the fuck.” Mikolas grunted as Nanto pulled her bloody hands free, frowning as it fell in front of his face. “A goddess will bless you with beautiful curls.” She said simplistically,  _ like that fucking made sense. _ “Wow, totally cleared that up.” Mikolas said, groaning at the sensation of something  _ more _ spreading in his body. The power was warm but burned, like standing too close to an open fire. “It doesn’t has to.” Nanto said, getting a thumbs up in return. Mikolas sighed, “This is too much to think about right now. I’m going to sleep.” He stated tiredly, leaning heavily against the dining room table before standing. “Hannibal, at seven we have to talk to….whoever.” Mikolas said, getting a nod in return. Nanto helped him stand, letting him lean heavily against her as they walked to his temporary room. Nanto left for a moment as Mikolas ascended the staircase, making his body slump down without support. Mikolas considered lying down, right on the floor, but had no doubt Derek would kick him in the stomach for lying down where he was trying to walk. Mikolas continued his journey, staring blankly at the walls before reaching his temporary room. He laid in his bed, letting sleep take him away easily. Maybe he wouldn’t have any nightmares tonight. 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

Nanto stared at the stag, lightly touching his shoulder and leaning down, “Come with me.” She whispered for show, knowing the ‘wolves could hear her, although she wanted them to. Will let out a jerky nod, standing up messily and completely uncoordinated. She considered him silently as Hannibal and Will followed her out of the large dining room. She could threaten them for Mikolas, but knowing what Mikolas’ uncles were, she remained quiet until they reached Will’s floor. Abigail was in the main room, half asleep and falling off the couch. Nanto woke the fawn up, lightly telling her to get sleep before facing the duo. Hannibal stood tall while Will trembled, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, was the saying, if Nanto remembered correctly. 

 

“Please, sit with me, and we may talk.” Nanto said, gesturing to the couch as she took the armchair. A small power play that the stag and wolf noticed, by their expressions’.  _ Intelligent _ , Nanto mused silently, smiling slightly as the sat. Hannibal closed off, folded but strong, while Will was open.  _ Challenging _ . Nanto sighed loudly, letting some of her magic out. The spell fueled her, and she was brimming with power she didn’t want, nor need. She breathed, phantom roses falling from her lips. She breathed more, pink carnations floating around her heard. She kept going, getting rid of a small sliver of her magic so she could finally  _ breathe.  _ “I apologize for the performance, it seems the spell added an influx of power.” 

 

Hannibal nodded his acceptance, while Will kept his eyes on the ground, tense lines showing his discomfort. Nanto ignored it, waving her hand to summon a glass of  _ 2004 Sori Tildin,  _ which she offered to the men. Neither accepted, untrusting of her magic and where her drink had come from. She sighed, rubbing her thumb against the bottom of the glass, setting it onto the table beside her. 

 

“I believe we should discuss Mikolas,” Nanto started, grabbing Will’s attention. “Although the boy cares for both of you, he plans to leave fairly soon. He is determined to help me, no matter how adamant I am about leaving alone.” Nanto watched Hannibal’s hand tighten in his own grip, small but revealing. Nanto could push for a reaction, but seeing as she wanted to live to meet the son she had raised, she remained silent. 

 

“Why would you leave?” Will asked, voice firm as if he did not know the answer. “Years ago, half a century I believe, I raised children. I was torn from them, although I believe I deserved punishment for how cruelly I treated them. The country was small, its name long forgotten. Mikolas wants to bring them to me, as a gift for saving him, once. He has done enough, but he still feels as if he owes a debt.” Nanto’s response was fond, lost in memories of ashen blonde hair and bright eyes that grew cold as time grew. “I left them in a place of poverty and death, and if even  _ one _ survived, I will ask them for forgiveness. Although it doesn’t matter what we atone for, does it?” Nanto mused quietly, Hannibal’s eyes turning into slits at the small trap Nanto placed before him. 

 

_ Tell him. The longer you wait, the more he shall hate you in the end _ . Nanato said in Hannibal’s head, watching the stag’s body grow tight with tension and defence. Nanto stood up, letting go of the glass and watching it shatter into marigolds. Flower’s of the dead seemed fitting for a goodbye, the future and the past warning the two men. Nanto tensed, sensing Stiles’ distress and soothing him. 

 

“Quiet, my boy, and rest.” Nanto said to Mikolas, feeling him relax  as her voice reached him. She realized she spoke aloud when Will met her eyes in a curious expression, and she let him  _ see _ . Death and life, loss and revenge, torture and freedom. She watched the man’s eyes widen, flicking away quickly and guiltily at reading her without ask. Nanto walked away, leaving the predators in their den as she left to watch over Mikolas and sleep. 

 

_ ∆/-/-/-/∆ _

 

Will sat, shock still as replayed Nanto’s reaction. Amusement and resignation, mixed with intrigue and challenge. Will could feel her grief, cloying and choking her so beautifully. If Will pushed, forced her to relive her past, she would break like teacup, useless and broken. Will ignored the malicious thoughts, walking silently to his room and ignoring his surroundings. He had more to worry about than Nanto’s pain, which was talking to Mikolas. The boy was strong, but Will feared what the boy thought of him.  _ Broken, pitiful, and ignorant _ may be a few words to describe what Mikolas felt towards the empath. Will would never look in his eyes, intrude on Mikolas’ thoughts like he’d done to so many other. 

 

Will laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. Will embraced the shadows of the dim room, letting them devour them in a cool wave. Will shuddered at the freezing water, eyes wide as he felt his body be  _ pushed _ . Will felt warmth on his right,  _ Hannibal, _ and something dragging them both. Cold hands touched his neck, removing the pain he didn’t realize he felt. He feels warm now, like a hearth inside him stomach, and sighed in bliss.  _ You have lost yourself, Wolf. _ Will gasped, back arching as he came back. He didn’t know  _ who _ he was empathizing with, but the person was cold and broken, disappointed in him. Will has never met anyone who called him a wolf; he’s been called a shattered teacup, a mongoose, a lamb, and so much more. Will knew he had a predator chained inside himself, but that creature would never be set free. The thought that it was a wolf, that he could potentially be a werewolf was shocking. He always knew that humans could be predators, but that there was something  _ bigger _ and  _ stronger _ made Will nervous. A serial killer could be a goddamn Wendigo, and that thought made him pause.  _ Wendigo _ . The monster he’s been seeing, something that’s been haunting his dreams for  _ months _ . Something with a crown of antlers, leathery skin made of night, and gangly, muscled limbs. That  _ thing _ looked like Hannibal, and with the new supernatural revelation, would it be so implausible for Hannibal to be a Wendigo? And if he was, a Wendigo was a cannibal, which made  _ sense _ ; the grief that followed him like a cloud, the loss of a loved one. The family member Hannibal was probably forced to eat. What if that’s what caused the change? Was Hannibal aware of what he was? What he was  _ Becoming _ ? 

 

∆/-/-/-/∆

 

Hannibal was known for being rational, fixing other people’s issues for his own benefit. The supernatural revelation was a problem, and if there were other creatures out there, that could broaden Hannibal’s culinary pieces significantly. Of course, if given the option, Hannibal would accept becoming something  _ more _ . Something stronger, faster, something that advanced Hannibal’s status. Of course, if Will were to become something  _ more _ , that would demolish Hannibal’s finely constructed plans. The fact that Hannibal was entertaining the idea of  _ mystical beings _ was completely idiotic, although the evidence cannot be forgotten. The information also brings a multitude of questions, such as how Mikolas was blessed with powers and Hannibal was not. If Hannibal was given powers, wouldn’t he have been able to save Mischa? In result of Mikolas’ powers, Hannibal was questioning everything he knew. 

 

What about the man Hannibal had killed, and stole the identity of? Roman Fell took longer then expected to die, his skin tight around Hannibal’s hands and bone saw. Was he a wolf? Or something else? Was he healing while Hannibal sawed at his chest cavity, the reason why Hannibal struggled extraordinarily with killing such a simple man? What other creatures had Hannibal unknowingly ate, and what were the effects of such feasts? Has he fed the Opera Donors wolf once, or had he only killed one? Had he never killed any creature, was the information Hannibal had been given poisoning his reality? Hannibal calmly stood up from the couch, checking his expensive watch. A half-hour to get the proper paperwork in order for him to fully adopt Mikolas and plan a funeral. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ My Tumblr ](Len0306a.tumblr.com)
> 
> Your comments make Hannibal stop being a dick and your kudos help Will realize how much he loves his cannibalistic husband.
> 
> Lena/Lee


	6. Choose Your Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikolas helps Will with his discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the short chapter, but Mikolas and crew will leave for Baltimore, and Will is going to confront Hannibal, yada yada yada. I don't want the cut that part in half, and it's kind of the 'killing two bird with one stone' type of deal. Have the confrontation, a character arc, and then relationships.

It’s been two weeks of bullshit, Mikolas thought resolutely. Adoption papers and annoying neighbors, watching his father’s body be placed next to his mother’s. Two graves that he could no longer visit, to more family member’s dead by his hand. Not his actual hand, his presence. Never telling his dad the truth killed him, and Mikolas’ birth caused his mother’s demise. Hannibal would fall under the same fate, Mikolas was sure, but the question was when? Ever since Hannibal and Co.’s arrival, things have shifted. Will became skittish and even more quiet, Hannibal determined, and the pack began to crumble under Mikolas’ inevitable departure. Fights and screams, broken glass and shattered memories. Mikolas hasn’t seen Scott or Allison, yet Chris is as persistent as ever in making sure the power Mikolas received didn’t go to his head. Mikolas questioned him, and was met with a goddamn brick wall called  _ grief _ and  _ guilt _ . 

 

Mikolas broke out of his memories, looking around the room. Will tense on the couch, Abigail playing on the Playstation, and Hannibal sitting elegantly in the armchair. Hannibal would leave soon, and Abigail had plans with Lydia to go shopping. Perfect time to confront Will on his behavior, which was more unusual that before. Mikolas sighed lightly, breathing in deeply before seating himself near Will. Far enough away to give Will the space he need, but close enough the stop Will’s departure. Mikolas knew Will understood he needed to talk, and by the way he tried to move away, was not happy with that fact. Mikolas just smiled serenely at Hannibal, something sharp and cold at the edges; by the small smirk he received in response, Hannibal knew and would ask questions later. Of course, Hannibal would just stare him down until Mikolas spilled, which he refuses to do. Mikolas needed Will to understand that he was safe with Mikolas, and that no one would hurt him here. At least, no one in the pack.

 

It took a sliver of time for the manipulative duo to leave, which left Will fidgeting and Mikolas exhausted. Will’s movements were more stressful than anything, and Mikolas finally understood his pack’s irritation at his constant movements. Good thing Mikolas’ magic settled, and allowed him to stay still for at least ten minutes straight. “Okay, so we need to talk. I have two things we need to discuss, but first is why the hell you were so jumpy after the meeting.” 

 

Will nodded, tapped out something Mikolas thinks is morse, and spoke quietly, “Do you know what he is?” Mikolas smiled indulgently, nodding his head. 

 

“I wasn’t sure if you figured it out, and how much knowledge you’ve acquired, but I’d be willing to answer any question. His reasoning is not my story to tell.” Mikolas spoke slowly, willing himself not to give away too much. Hannibal deserved privacy, even if it was something dark and twisted. Mikolas has given up his life for this pack, for his family, and he refused to let it all go to waste with loose lips and concern. Regret is something Mikolas hates, and avoids it whenever necessary. Although, regret was bittersweet now, filled with satisfaction and something completely dark and disgusting. “I know he’s a cannibal. I see him as a-a-a Wendigo in my head. I just don’t know  _ what _ he’s called.” Will was distressed, harsh breathing and concern turning his lips red. Mikolas smiled. 

 

“You want his serial killer name? Are you sure?” Mikolas said, laughter in his tone. He knows how this will play out; Will’s reaction would be explosive, taking his anger out on Mikolas until he understood why Mikolas did not care. He would scream himself hoarse, and then break down, and then he will  _ see _ . After he understands Hannibal, he will accept him, if he isn’t push. Hannibal is his foundation, and Will can not stand on his own. “Yes.” 

 

“Chesapeake Ripper.” Will, stood up, enraged and red in the face, yet he remained quiet. He remain quiet until Mikolas stood up.

 

“How can you let that happen? Knowing what he does, what he is, how do you  _ accept that _ ?” He killed so many innocent lives, he ripped their bodies apart! Hannibal  _ destroyed _ families without caring, he-he-he-,” Will was panicking, anxiety lining his tense muscles. They warped under his clothes like a snake, ready to strike and constrict. Mikolas knew what was coming next and he accepted it, keeping his body relaxed and his hands at his sides. Will started to strike, fist raising in unfiltered rage, and Mikolas stood his ground. Will punched, and Mikolas grabbed his fist easily, feeling Will’s weight shift to his other foot. Will pulled his left arm back, quickly pushing forwards in a left hook, directed at Mikolas’ stomach. Mikolas also caught that fist, letting go of Will’s right hand to walk behind the slightly shorter man. He crossed Will’s arm over his chest, quickly grabbing Will’s right forearm and doing the same. 

 

Mikolas held Will, thrashing, against his chest, arms confined, until Will sunk down to the floor. Mikolas went down with him, loosening his grip but keeping his arm wrapped around the empath. They sat there for a few minutes until Will calmed down, and then Mikolas spoke, “Are you alright to talk about another subject?” Will nodded, head falling back against Mikolas’ shoulder as he relaxed. “Okay. Your empathy baffled me, at first. Then I remembered something, and compared symptoms. At first, I thought you were an empath, but that didn’t explain why you understood a killer's next move; now, though, I realize you’re a Seer. Someone that can vaguely predict the future with objects, and if you train, you could do so without. You will always have premintons, or ‘hallucinations’, but you can learn to control them. I can teach you.” 

 

Mikolas released Will, slowly standing up. “Of course, you predicted Hannibal’s Becoming; he will turn into a Wendigo if he keeps eating people, which I would prefer not to deal with.” The threat was clear and painful, and Will nodded in acknowledgement. The man sighed, standing up to forcibly push himself onto the couch, letting out a grunt. Mikolas knew what Will saw in his visions’, and knew Hannibal had two routes: Wendigo, or Shape-shifter. Lean off the unorthodox meals, and he could become something beautiful, even if it held an omen. “How would you teach me?” 

 

Mikolas rolled his lips between his teeth, heavily exhaling through his nose. “We would start by triggering enjoyable memories from the past, and then dark ones. I’ll teach you how to block them, or bring them forwards, depending on the occasion.” Will sighed, tapping out an uneven rhythm, before smiling tiredly. “When do we start?” 

 

“When we go to Baltimore.” Will nodded, a tired smile playing on his face. “Feels like I always attract monsters.” 

 

“Human monsters.” Mikolas replied, going to the small kitchen to grab a drink. There was mini monster energy’s, and Mikolas chugged one down. He grabbed a second one, raising it up in the air in an offering. Will nodded, and Mikolas grabbed another one. Mikolas settled near Will, leaving enough room for Will to be comfortable. Will grabbed the drink, taking a sip and holding it in his lap. 

 

“Can we start now?” Mikolas wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but nodded anyways. He got up to get access to his back pocket, pulling out the Sheriff star. Ever family member who lost a loved one on the duty got a badge from their family in the service. Stiles rubbed the harsh surface, handing it to Will. “Think about what he was like. To me, he was stern but loving, and held his job above almost everything, except for me.” Will nodded, and Stiles breathed out. He pulled out his phone, pulling up a picture. Scott, Mikolas, and John all standing on the lacrosse field, all in their respective uniforms. John was giving Stiles a noogie, and Scott was laughing close by. 

 

Will smiled at the picture, closing his eyes. Mikolas continued to devour his energy drink, staring out the window. He waited, knowing there was an unlikely chance Will would actually accomplish the task. He didn’t move, make any noise, and tried to keep Will focused on the feeling of the star. He was rubbing the name, the symbol, trying to feel something from the object. Mikolas pulled out his phone again, going to his photos. He pulled up a video, of him pranking John when he got off work. Him and Scott recorded from the edge of the room, a homemade confetti cannon being set off when John set off the tripwire. Stiles smiled at the image, quietly saying Will’s name. He got the man’s attention, showing the video. John laughed before scolding them, telling them they had to clean up the mess and hugging Stiles. The video ended, and Mikolas said, “Try again.” Will nodded, sinking father into the couch and  _ thinking _ . 

 

Mikolas could hear the pendulum swing, could tell Will was seeing a memory. Will relaxed more, grip slack on the object, and laughed. It sounded like John’s laugh, and Mikolas instantly knew what he was seeing. Mikolas and his mom, dancing in the kitchen while his father laughed as they tripped over each other’s feet. They were listening Paul Anka,  _ Put Your Head On My Shoulder _ . Mikolas remembers his mother forcing John to dance, dipping him and forcing him to spin. Mikolas let the memory play out, knowing it was tinged in grief. Mikolas waited, knowing how long the past was. Mikolas could see Will tense, and knew the past changed. Mikolas stood, Will motionless, and Mikolas lightly grabbed the star back. Will gasped, breaking free from the recollection and started counting. 

 

_ Five. Eight. Seven. Keep going. Five. Eight. Seven. _

 

Slowly, Will came back to the present, teary eyed and calm. “I saw him dance with you and his wife. Then I saw him fight with a man with red, greyish eyes.” Mikolas nodded, and pulled out another photo. A picture of Deucalion, which was understandable, and Mikolas nodded. “That’s Deucalion. He killed my father, which is why I pulled you out.”

 

Mikolas continued handing Will objects, the man growing tired. Finally, Will asked. “Why don’t you touch the red hoodie?” 

 

“The red hoodie is….The red hoodie is a memento. It’s what I wore all the time, and what I wore when everything turned to shit. It used to be a light red, but the blood stained it, and it was torn to pieces and stitched up again. It isn’t something you should see yet.” By Will’s posture, he was going to steal the hoodie. Mikolas’ eyes turned to slits, and he watched Will stare at the piece of clothing. “Fine. I’m pulling you out when you show any sign of stress.”   
  
Will nodded his acceptance, and Miikolas handed Will the piece of clothing. He let Will touch it, let Will see through his eyes. He watched Will gasp, saw panic and grief, and took him out after fifteen seconds. He snatched the hoodie back gently, helping Will shake off the fear. “Now you’ve seen, and you will not see it until you are  _ ready _ .”    
  
Will nodded, still grief stricken and upset, chugging the rest of his warm beverage. Mikolas put away all the objects he set out, slowly packing them back into his suitcase. He checked his watch, seeing Hannibal was meant to be back soon, and looked at Will. “Get some rest. We’re leaving in two days.” Mikolas nodded his head to Will’s room, and Will nodded back, too tired to fight any command. He wobbled into his room, and Mikolas waited until he shut his door. Mikolas didn’t pack away the red hoodie, he realized, feeling the cloth between his hands. He shimmed it on, putting his thumbs into the homemade holes. 

 

It smelled like rot. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go to my

**Author's Note:**

> How do you feel about Peter/Stile? It will happen in later chapters but I promise you your opinion means so much to me. 
> 
> Side note: I dyed my hair electric blue and I look like a clown with my short hair lmaoooo. 
> 
> Your comments eat Deucalion's heart and you kudos bring John back to life. 
> 
> Lena/Lee.


End file.
